I have a hard time minding my own business. I’m constantly observing people and their surroundings, particularly when riding public transportation. If I can advise my fellow passengers on how to improve their lives, why shouldn’t I? Usually it’s in the form of an observation I’ve made that I’m sure they are unaware of. I’ve told countless people that their backpack zipper is open. More often than not, people are grateful, and thank me. It usually ends there. Sometimes it goes a little further.
The other night I was on the subway, and there was a woman standing right above where I was sitting. Her purse zipper was undone, and I could see everything in her purse. It would have been so easy to stick my hand in there and take her wallet. It occurred to me that perhaps the zipper was broken, but I felt compelled to speak up anyway. I tapped the woman and told her that her purse was open. She said that the zipper was broken. I apologized for bothering her, and explained that I was a New Yorker, and… “You know.” I shrugged my shoulders, and made a face that I hoped would convey what I was thinking: As a New Yorker, I had been witness to countless pickpockets and muggings. Her purse was practically an open invitation.
She said she knew she had to get it fixed, and smiled. I smiled back, and returned to my iPod. A few minutes later, I remembered that there was a zipper repair shop in the vicinity. I restrained myself from dispensing what I thought would be very useful information. After all, there is a line where “kind stranger” crosses over to “creepy busybody.” I was getting close.
Yesterday I was waiting to get on the train, and the woman in front of me was wearing yoga pants. The seam in the back of her pants wasn’t lined up in the middle, where it should be, and it looked funny. I had to physically move myself away to stop myself from telling her. Thus I avoided what could have been a very uncomfortable situation.
I’m mostly helpful in my endeavors. I’ve helped people steer clear of wet seats on the subway. I’ve told people to watch out for that dog mess. The most awkward helpful encounter I’ve ever had was when I told a man that a cockroach was crawling on him. He was grateful, all right. Mortified, but grateful.
Sometimes I talk to strangers for my own benefit. Recently I’d been researching a specific brand of boots I wanted, and I couldn’t find a store nearby that carried them. While riding the T a couple of weeks ago, a woman got on, wearing the very boots I had been coveting! She sat down at the other end of the car. I knew I had to talk to her before she got off. I stood up and pushed my way through the rush hour crowd. When I got to where she was, I said, “Excuse me.” She moved over to let me pass, and I had to mumble, “Oh, actually, I wanted to ask you something. Where’d you get your boots?” She was polite enough, answering my question, but I could tell she didn’t want to get into a drawn out conversation. Did that stop me from telling her how I had gone on this website and that website, and I couldn’t find a store who carried them, and ever since last spring’s torrential downpours, remember June? I had been wanting to get rain boots, even though I’d lived in this city for seventeen years, and why had I waited so long? No, it didn’t. I finally got the message when she smiled tightly at me and opened her book.
I can’t help myself; I like people, and I like to talk. Maybe I’ll wear a sign around my neck that says, “Free Advice.” Until then, I’ll try to mind my own. But wouldn’t you want someone to tell you that you had toilet paper on the bottom of your shoe?
Ms. Campbell may be contacted at campbellalexandra@hotmail.com
