I really wish people would stop asking me directions. It’s not that I mind stopping to talk to them, it’s just that I can barely find my own way through town, never mind helping someone else find theirs.
Today, for example, I was rushing along downtown when a white-haired lady pushing a walker (oops, rollator … it had four all-season radials) raised her hand and motioned for me to come over.
Her downy hair was pulled up in a bun covered in a circle of yellow gingham, like the top of a jam jar.
She pointed to the street in front of us and asked, “Front Street, yes?”
I couldn’t quite place her accent.
“No, no, that’s Queen Street,” I explained, probably a little too loudly. “Front Street is about six blocks south.” I pointed toward the CN Tower off in the distance (its beacon-like visibility was the only reason I was fairly confident in my directions).
The lady repeated what I said, nodded then started to roll toward the curb.
“But it’s quite far,” I called out, hoping to dissuade her from walking – or rolling – the whole way.
I didn’t know what to do. I was on foot, so I couldn’t offer her a ride. And I had exactly $5 on me, which would take her about two blocks in a cab.
All I could really do was make sure she knew how far away it was. She seemed to sense my worry, and dismissed it with a wave of her hand.
“Is fine,” she said. “Front Street.” And pointed south to at least reassure me she was going in the right direction.
Once again, my good deed intentions resulting in kindness being shown to me. I’ve got some serious payback work to do, folks ….
P.S. Here’s a song I felt was appropriate. Enjoy!