Call Me Google

I work in downtown Atlanta. When I am walking to or from my office building, people often stop and ask me for directions. Usually, they are in their cars and roll down their windows as they pull up to the sidewalk and hail my attention. Sometimes it happens at lunchtime, when I'm walking around Centennial Olympic Park or The Georgia Aquarium.

I've worked downtown for long enough that it's rare for me to not know where the person is headed. I like that. I like being able to give people directions, especially when they're women, and they have frantic looks on their faces. I smile and think, "Yeah, one-way streets are the pits. I'm glad I can get around the ninth largest metropolitan area in the country."

Yet I wonder. Why do people ask me for directions? Do I look especially knowledgeable? Do I look like I know where I'm going because I walk fast or with a sense of purpose? Maybe I just look friendly? Take a look at my profile picture to the left of the page. Do I look like a street-savvy girl to you? I submit to you that I do not. Why, then, do people often approach me with directional questions? I don't mind it, of course, but it is strange to me.


Thing I'm thankful for: breakfast. There's really nothing quite like Shredded Wheat Vanilla Almond in the morning.