When I was in New York a couple weeks ago, I was waiting for the uptown 1/9 at Canal Street when I noticed 6 teenage girls and two middle-aged women—all white—looking absolutely terrified. The girls were huddled around the women, trying to look nonchalant as they clutched each other and their bags, glancing around uneasily at the ethnic minorities, homos, the homeless, and other “scary” New Yorkers. The two adults were doing no better themselves, with four maps between them, whispering loudly about which train would get them back to the Waldorf-Astoria.

The women’s fur-trimmed coats and real Louis Vuitton purses spoke volumes, as did the massive jewelry and caked-on makeup. For whatever reason, I felt sorry for them and asked where they were going. I looked very much the tourist myself, and they looked surprised and relieved. While explaining the trip they’d need to take to get back, the 1 came and we all boarded on. Once I’d proven to be a nice, helpful young man, Woman #1 was feeling very chatty and told me how they were all from Texas, she and her friend were chaperones for their daughters’ high school music tour, and her oldest daughter was 18 and wanted to move to New York. She asked me where I was from originally, because, “I can tell you’re not a native New Yorker!”

I couldn’t decide if I should be flattered or not. On one hand, they thought I lived in the city. On the other, they knew I was just a poser in some way.

Regardless, I decided to play it up a little.

Me: I’m from Salt Lake City.
Woman: Oh, Utah?
Me: Yeah, Utah. I moved here for work last year.
Woman: My, what a change!
Me: Yeah, it was a shock at first, but now I love it.
Woman: Oh, I see… (whispering) can I ask you something?
Me: Sure.
Woman: Is it hard to stay clean here?
Me: Uhhh… you mean because of all the pollution and trash and stuff?
Woman: No, no… I mean… I mean, like, morally clean. Is it hard to stay straight here?
Me: Straight?
Woman: Yes, on the straight and narrow path. I’m asking as the mother of a young woman who wants to be here. You’re from a very moral place, and obviously a well-bred young man. What do you think?

I didn’t quite know what to do with this now. There were so many options! I don’t know what qualified me in her mind, but I decided to be nice.

Me: Well, I guess that depends on your definition of “straight and narrow path.”
Woman: Oh, you know! None of that pervy stuff. It’s so rampant here! We’ve seen so many dirty stores already, and I’d heard they cleaned up the city and made it family-safe, but (whispers even lower now) there are so many ho-mo-sexuals!

I really didn’t know what to do at this point.

I couldn’t believe she’d actually said it like that.

I couldn’t believe she thought of “ho-mo-sexuals” as a threat.

I couldn’t believe she obviously thought I was straight!

I realized I lead a very sheltered life—sheltered from ignorance, intolerance… and the stupidity of about 70% of Americans.

The train was just pulling up at 34th Street.

Me: I don’t think gay people are something you have to worry about. You should hope your daughter meets some.
Woman: (fully perplexed) Oh?
Me: This is my stop. But, yeah—a good homo will take the time to get you home safely from Canal Street before he goes home to his boyfriend. Have a good night.

With that, the doors closed, and I watched 8 sheltered Texas women pick their jaws up off the floor. It was truly a scene from a movie.

By the way, my stop was really 110th Street, but it was way too good an exit to pass up.