Don't Ask Me

I must be looking more comfortable and confident in the subways and the streets of the city, because people are starting to ask me for directions.

Or maybe I just look non-threatening, relative to some of the other characters around here.

Either way, it's a bad idea. I've never denied that I am directionally challenged. Every time I emerge from the subways the only way I can figure out where I'm going is to orient myself to Central Park.

Last week someone asked me how to get to West Broadway, and I told him that Broadway only runs north and south, so how could there be a West Broadway? Turns out there's an actual separate street called West Broadway, downtown somewhere that I've never been.

At first when people asked me directions, I would say, "I think it's that way," or something similarly vague, and then the poor lost souls would look at me and wonder, Well, do I take her word for it or not? Does she know her head from her tail?

So now, to relieve any indecision, I simply say, "I'm sorry, I don't know." Even if I think I do. Because I probably don't.