Do I Look Like the Welcome Wagon?

It happens to me more often than I would expect. I'm out for a walk, moving at a pretty good pace, basically minding my own business. Suddenly, a car approaches. I pause, then begin to make my way around the vehicle. The driver rolls down the window, pokes her head out, and says, "Excuse me, but we're lost. Can you give me directions?"

I don't mind helping people; in fact, I enjoy it. But there are times when these lost people aren't so appreciated. Sometimes I'm taking a nice, leisurely stroll, and I don't feel bothered by an interruption. At other times, though, I'm tempted to ignore them. One day, I was doing a long (as in 14 mile) training walk for an upcoming half-marathon. I'd already gone about 8 miles, and I was definitely feeling the miles and starting to lose steam. A couple in a pickup truck slowed and then stopped ahead of me. I figured they were parking so I moved over on the sidewalk to give them some room and started to walk by. "Sir?" they called out. (It must have been the hat I was wearing, along with my short hair. But calling a woman "sir" isn't the best start to a conversation when you want someone to help you.) I gritted my teeth and turned around. "Me?" I asked. Sheepishly, they explained that they were looking for directions to the interstate. I paused, trying to think. Wait, that was miles from here, and meant lots of twists and turns on back roads. "Well..." I said. "It's kind of hard to explain how to get there from here." The man was clearly unimpressed, and said "you must not have lived here long." I informed him that I had lived in the area for more than 10 years, thank you very much, gave him a bit of a look, and stomped off. I was still fuming a mile later, but at least I picked up my pace for the latter part of my walk. (And I'll offer a tip to any direction-seekers out there: insulting the person you're asking a favor from will generally not endear you to that person.)

Another time I was doing intervals, which meant I was more focused on my pace than usual. I was wearing headphones and listening to up-tempo music on my iPod to help me. A van pulled up from behind, the driver honking his horn. I ignored him, hoping he would get the hint. He didn't. Instead, he honked more persistently until I took off my headphones and looked at him with a sigh. He asked directions to a place he was nowhere near, so I told him he was miles away, but he should head thataway and ask someone else for directions farther down the road. (All of which begs the question: why do these people always seem really far away from their destinations when they're hopelessly lost?)

To be fair, not everyone who asks for directions is like these people. But still, many of them have no reservations about stopping a total (and sweaty) stranger. And when I'm wearing headphones, I have to wonder: do I look like I'm out for a pleasant stroll, hoping for a bit of conversation with anyone who happens to drive by? Still I do what I can, and am usually able to help people get where they're going. In fact, on one memorable occasion a couple was wandering around the local college campus looking for a particular building, and I (somewhat sweatily) offered them a slightly soggy campus map I happened to have in my pocket. They accepted gratefully... and I don't think it was that wet.

It's funny, though, because it never occurs to me to ask for directions from random pedestrians. Do I just have one of those faces? Maybe I seem sort of approachable (although on days I'm out for a training walk, I would imagine my expression often seems grim). I've been wondering if there's some way I can cash in on this ability I have. Maybe I can get kickbacks from local businesses for steering these lost souls their way. Hey, I think this idea might have potential...