The importance of being honest

So, I watched this guy get on the train.

I sat across from him, hoping he would set his bag on his lap (or at least rotate it 90 degrees so I might get a better look at it.) As the train lurched us all toward Manhattan, I cursed myself for not sitting caddy-corner to him. I contemplated pretending to look at the subway map across the way and inconspicuously re-seating myself where I might get a better view of this curious canvas bag.

I tried a clandestine snap from my phone, but there is no being secretive with an iPhone camera on the moving C train. After I asked him if I might properly photograph his cool bag and whether or not he made it, he said, “here, let me give you a card.”

Out comes the little notepad; a few moments pause (for drawing on the spot) and then he hands me this little gem (which I’ll certainly tack on my wall.)

Ah! A Family Ties series in homage to his father.

I hand him my card, he inspects my own hand-doodlery. “Check out my LLC-Storefronts series,” he says with latent understanding of how touched I am to receive this card, especially from a subway situation.

He then mentions how he just spent six months in Austin, Texas (hello, people, this is eerie!!—my card says New York, no trace of Austin indicated) working and hanging out with family. Had I not overcome my New Yorker-adapted subway-chat fear, I would have come away with a blurry image of a cool bag/idea (to paint a blah canvas bag into the message of your choice) and an un-answered wonder about that guy.

Surely in Austin we’d have sat and chatted for at least an hour, but I’m happy with 2.5 minutes, a homemade biz card and a non-blurry photo.

Rewards come to those who speak up.