Once, still pretty new to NYC, I was riding the A train from Brooklyn to Penn Station for my morning commute. And a guy across the train from me caught my eye. I thought, ok, that guy is really staring at me. Then the seat next to me opened up and he came and sat. I was like, getting a bit uncomfortable, but my stop came up. I get up to leave, and he sticks a piece of paper in my hand. I get off the train, he does not follow. The doors close, and I read the note he’d written, which says, and it was true, “Your sweater’s on inside out.”