I suppose I’m what you would call approachable. Yesterday, three people stopped me to ask where they could catch the Q101 bus. I stuttered each time, gesturing inarticulately to the distance and apologizing for my ineptitude. I see buses pass, but I prefer to go by foot when I can.
Today, it was a man holding a single long-stemmed rose, wrapped in butcher paper. He dashed across 36th Avenue. “Miss, excuse me, miss?”
I yanked out my ear buds to listen.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, but could I use your phone to make a call?” He held out his phone to me. “I swear I won’t take it, my phone’s just out of battery and that bar over there only has an iPhone charger. But you can hold my phone and stand here while I make the call.”
“Is it local?” I suppose it didn’t much matter. I dislodged my phone from my pocket, my fingers already growing red in the cold.
“An iPhone. Jeesh. I swipe? Is that what I do? And how do I dial?” I helped him punch the numbers in. After a few false starts, he greeted his friend.
“Ay! I was just in the neighborhood and I ordered some food at this bar, that donkey place, you know the crazy one? They’re making me that big plate of food, you know, the big one? You’ve got to come help me eat it.”
I tried not to look at his face, as if that offered him some privacy.
“No, I’m calling from the sweetest girl’s phone. Mine ran out of battery. Anyway, Queens! If you’re around, you should come eat. I already had some falafel this morning and some of that meat on a stick, and now, well, the big thing of food is waiting for me. You’re not sure you can make it? I know, Queens, man.”
He pulled the phone from his ear and explained, “We’re from Ireland.” I smiled. His accent was faint.
“All right, well, it’ll probably take me about two hours to eat all this food. OK if I come around when I’m done? Smashing.” And then he handed the phone back to me. I hung up for him.
It was a few blocks to my apartment, and I half wanted to sit down and share a beer and some onion rings with this man, so chipper and appreciative. “You’re the best! I’m going to pass the good deed on!” he called at my back, and we went our separate ways.
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