About a year and a half ago, I was on my Friday evening commute home when I heard a scream from behind me. I turned to see a woman drop half of her bags on the wet pavement and hear her narrate her anguish out loud. "I'm tired, I'm cold, and I've been on the street for three days!" She cried to no one in particular. The passengers who had been ahead of me on the Metro scuttled out into the night, rain sloshing over their shoes.
Unnerved, I watched for an agonizing moment as the woman started to pick up her bags. Feeling a mixture of guilt and sympathy, I finally asked her, "Excuse me, but -- you seem like you're having a hard day. Would you like to get a cup of coffee with me?"
