Yesterday, being that it was a balmy 40-something degrees, I decided to walk from the old midtown office down to 14th Street. As I got to Union Square, I thought, Huh, nothing interesting has happened on this walk. There is usually something interesting that happens. So just as I started to think that, I see this girl, perhaps in her mid-twenties looking around somewhat frantically. I make eye contact and she walks up to me and says, "Can you tell me where Port Authority is? It's right around here somewhere, right?"

Oh boy. For you out-of-towners, she was nowhere near Port Authority. She was under the impression it was right around the corner. It is about 28 blocks and four avenues away. I felt so bad. I said with lots of sympathy, "No, you've gotta go up to 42nd and 8th." She thanked me and then just started crying. She said something like, "The guy told me it was around..." Then she got on her Nextel walkie-talkie and called someone and started blubbering. I didn't have a chance to explain to her how to get there. So I just punched her and took her wallet. Well, no, I didn't do that. I just felt like I had to act tough in front of you, Dearest Blog Reader.

Speaking of you, Blog Reader, who are you? I like getting emails and chances are, you have not emailed me. I'm bored right now. Please send me something to read. Thank you.