Bohemian Delilah

I’ve taken to carrying tissues in my handbag (which is really a Manhattan-Portage shoulder bag, but let’s pretend). It’s great fun to offer them to the person sitting next to me on the Metro who’s been sniffling for a minute or so. And I don’t mean like, hey, this guy is bugging the crap out of me. I mean, hey, it really sucks to be in that situation, let’s remedy it.

It’s amazing how such a little thing changes a person’s attitude too. I offer and people smile and accept. I don’t know that there is anything else you could offer a complete stranger. You could give someone a cigarette, but only after they’ve requested one, and then you need to feel a little bad that you’ve become something of an enabler for someone. But tissues, they start a conversation: about the weather, about allergies, about grandmas who used to do the same thing. (The grandma stories are my favorite.) And I end up feeling really good because I’ve made someone a little more comfortable.

I realize it’s a silly little thing, but thought many people might feel the same way I do, like they’re one in a million of an anonymous society. Maybe carrying tissues would be your remedy, too.