Dear Portuguese stranger who asked me for directions around 4pm last Sunday at the 49th Street Subway Station,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know by heart how to get to the World Trade Center Memorial. I’m sorry I had to look it up on my phone. I’m sorry I told you to take the R to Cortlandt. In my defense, the R goes to Cortlandt. It just didn’t this particular Sunday.
I’m sorry the announcement came after you boarded the train. I’m sorry the R was running on the Q line to DeKalb. I’m sorry if you wound up at DeKalb, wondering why you were in Brooklyn, wondering why I lied to you. I hope you don’t feel betrayed; I really did want you to get where you wanted to go.
I hope you got there eventually. I hope your conductor told you your train was rerouted. I hope you spoke enough English to understand. I hope someone on that train pointed you in the right direction.
When you get home, please don’t take revenge upon lost Americans. Please don’t send them off into the wilds of Lisbon when they ask you for directions to the PadrĂ£o dos Descobrimentos. Please don’t tell your friends that New Yorkers are mean, or that we lie to foreigners for fun.
Despite your unexpected trip to Brooklyn, I hope you enjoyed your stay in New York. Perhaps next time, come explore my borough. It’s a great place, when you don’t end up here by accident.
If I ever see you again, I’ll buy you a bagel. I know a good place just off DeKalb.
Obrigado,
Zach
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