I’m sorry for the person I stopped in front of while trying to figure out which end of my map was up. Your need to walk around me added an extra .34 seconds to your commute, and I’m sorry. Your advice to “move your fucking ass” was quite helpful, and I will act on it in the future.
To the short-order cook working at the corner deli: I’m sorry for looking at you. I did not mean to imply that I could do your job better. Also, thank you for inquiring if anything was “wrong with me”. I hope it put your mind to rest to learn that I was not, in fact, retarded.
I apologize to the gentleman whom I asked for directions. I should not have gotten confused. You were perfectly within your right not to tell me the street I was looking for was a single block to the right. Were the situation reversed, and you asked me for directions, I have no doubt that I would have kept you in the metaphorical dark. The same goes for the other three people I asked.
I’m sorry New York City, that I will be returning to you rather soon. I promise to do my best to be a better person once I move there. To those I wronged, I sincerely hope you did not all contract a case of the runs, despite my fervent wish at the time that you would.
(But seriously, I love New York. Nothing but stories down every block.)