They can't be nice ALL the time

New Yorkers. They were an adjustment from the people of Michigan I grew up knowing. They all seemed to speak harshly, coldly, with little caring in their voices or body language. Always honking, always in a hurry. I've been here quite a few years now. I've spoken to nice strangers, I've witnessed compassion after September 11th. But now and then, I'm jolted by utter rudeness I cannot accept or appreciate.

Like, for example, this week. I'm walking in a broken-in pair of sandals. It's the end of summer. My ankles are used to it. But I'm in a hurry, I'm late to work, and my ankle turns, sending me crashing to the ground. The corner of a city sidewalk. I'm ok. I stand up, readjusting my gym bag on my back and my shoulder bag. I look up to see an old lady with a cart bending over to pick up my lunch bag for me. How nice! "Thank you," I start to say, but before I can get that out, she starts lecturing me about wearing shoes without straps. "Yes, they're pretty, but look what happens when you..." "Thank you, I'm alright," I say, walking away as quickly as I can without falling again. You know, where is the love? If that's love, then...then save it. I don't need to learn your lesson. I am 5'2 and I cannot wear flats every day of my life. Go pick on someone who's younger than 30!!!