At the corner of Franklin and Washington, walking back to the office, I suddenly heard someone say, We're looking for Bromfield. Not excuse me, can you tell me where Bromfield Street is? or Excuse me, but we're lost, could you help us? Just, I'm the center of the effing universe and I'm looking for Bromfield.
It was some rich-looking woman riding shotgun in some nondescript SUV. (Since I do work on the GM account, at some point I guess I should start to know cars.)
Bromfield is a tiny street right across Washington from Franklin. I didn't give her a look that told her I thought she was stupid. I didn't comment on her manners. I didn't say, "That's interesting. Now tell someone who gives a s**t." I just pointed and kept walking.
I bet that old battle axe gets treated like that all the time. Maybe she just needed a hug.
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