Walking through Dumbo on my way to the train I see what appears to be a tourist couple approaching from the other side of the street. They are dressed nearly identically, both carrying their backpacks on their chests, looking slightly disoriented. I suppress a grimace: being asked directions by tourists has become an annoying commonplace in this iconic neighborhood. As I come abreast of them the woman stops and asks me in broken English where to find the ‘underground.’ ‘You mean the subway?’ I ask. She nods vaguely. I recognize her accent in French, and as I begin giving her directions in her native language her entire posture changes: she smiles warmly, nods and gestures in response to the route I indicate. ‘Merci beaucoup!’ Then she and her companion are on their way, relieved to have found someone so helpful, and I’m on mine, slightly ashamed at my initial reaction to these stereotypical, but highly appreciative tourists.