My favorite New York City joke goes like this:
A visitor to NYC is lost and walking down Broadway. He stops a New Yorker. "Excuse me," he says, "can you tell me where the Plaza Hotel is or should I go fuck myself?"
Last week, two of my partners and I were in New York for some meetings.
One evening, about midnight, on the way back to our hotel after a lovely dinner, one of my partners slipped on 6th Avenue and fell to the sidewalk. Instantaneously her ankle swelled up like a balloon and she was in great pain. We thought her ankle might be broken.
In about a minute there were people offering us help. Cab drivers stopped to ask us if we needed an ambulance. Passersby asked us if we needed them to call 911. A hotel security guard came out and helped us get her into a cab and off to a nearby emergency room.
It was a truly inspirational display of niceness.
As someone born and bred in New York, it made me proud.
The good news: A bad sprain, no break.