New Yorkers Aren't As Terrifying As Movies Make Them Seem

People in New York City get an unusual amount of criticism. Many people believe New Yorkers are rude, fast paced, and a little high maintenance. The city can be scary, there are always people milling about, talking loudly, and generally keeping to themselves.

I grew up pretty close to the city. I’ve gone there many times over the course of my life and until I was 18, I never really spoke to someone on the street if I didn’t know them. I, even though I had been there so frequently, believed that people would be rude to me if I talked to them in the City, which is relatively typical for a person who doesn’t live there.

There are moments, like those in movies, where you need to stop and ask for help on the streets of New York City. I had one of those moments recently. I went out to dinner with coworkers from my internship and had to leave early to catch a train back to my suburban home. I didn’t ask for someone to direct me to the nearest subway station, I had Google Maps, there was no need to interrupt dinner over the subway station.

I should have asked.

I walked from the restaurant for about 45 minutes before I realized I was very lost. Google Maps, apparently, is not the best tool to use while in the city. I had a moment of panic: I was in the city at night, lost with no real clue on how to get to the subway station. I sat on the sidewalk, playing in my mind the moment where I got lost forever in the city to never see someone I knew again. I, then, called my parents. They suggested Uber, which was a wonderful plan! Expect for the app apparently did not want to work that night.

My parents then suggested something I had yet to think of. Ask for help. Okay, not a crazy request, I could do this. I am legally an adult and I can ask for help if I need it!

I stood on the corner of a street for 10 minutes, before I walked up to two women having a polite conversation. They were truly sweet woman, one even walked all the way to the subway station with me.

Okay, asking for help worked.

I was at the final stretch. The subway was there. I could find my train now.

Unfortunately, the subway station is about as hard to navigate as the streets were. I was lost again for another 45 minutes. I had to ask for help again. I had to do it. I had to ask for help finding this elusive Path train. I nearly found it, with the help of a man who stopped when he saw me cursing and wandering around lost. He walked me through the subway for quite sometime, but he was a fast walker. I am a very slow walker and I was wearing heels. What a dumb decision.

He walked around with me, until he got lost as well. Our journey ended after I fell down the stairs. My ankle had rolled and I was not prepared. Nearly every single person in that staircase stopped, and there must have been at least eight or nine people. One man made sure that I didn’t tumble down, by quickly grabbing my arms to steady me. A woman ran over to check on me and my ankle. Another man stopped to tell me I was “a tough cookie.”

Every single one of them was so concerned for me. Every one of them was incredibly sweet, making sure I was alright before I continued on my adventure.

I never found the train and I had to wait at a bus stop for 30 minutes for my dad to pick me up, but I did learn a few things.

Number one: never, ever wear heels to the city without a flats in your purse.

Number two: asking for help is not as scary as it seems. Multiple people went out of their way to help me that night.

Number three: New Yorkers are not these terrifying people who will be rude to you if you ask a question.