It was a Friday afternoon and I was at Pennsylvania Station trying to get home to Long Island. After being stuck in the subway for more than 30 minutes, missing two trains and having a vicious argument over the phone, I was standing quite morosely at the Kmart entrance.
As a group of Wall Street types rushed by me to catch their train, my very heavy duffel bag fell on my foot and I was swung around by the speed of the oncoming crowd, making my very new, very expensive wristlet fly out of my hands. Its contents - my bank card, my credit cards, the cash I had just taken from the A.T.M., my train ticket and my cellphone - scattered all around me.
A group of young men in Mets paraphernalia started walking my way, pushing their way through the crowd of people and forming a wall around me - and around the scattered contents of my wallet. One of them grinned and said, „A damsel in distress.” Two of them helped me collect my things.
As I stuttered to thank them, one young man leaned toward me and whispered, „Let’s see a smile now.”
I smiled. He grinned. „Yup, it’s a winner. You’re very welcome.”
Stunned, I watched my heroes walk off into the rush-hour throng.
New Yorkers hebben wereldwijd de naam ruw en onaardig te zijn. Of dat terecht is? Ik hoor graag jouw ervaringen. Ooit schofterig behandeld of juist vriendelijk verrast?