I bought coffee and a bacon and egg sandwich from a vendor whose kiosk was parked on the sidewalk across from St. Vincent Ferrer this morning, after Mass, and ate half the sandwich while standing there on the corner, then wrapped the rest of it in the aluminum foil in which it had been given to me, and put it inside the brown paper sack in which it had also been given to me, and started down the block toward the station, drinking my coffee and thinking I would eat the rest of the sandwich when I got to the apartment. When I reached the subway, however, and had gone down the stairwell and through the turnstile and was standing on the platform, waiting for the train, I saw a guy sitting on a bench who appeared to be homeless, so it occurred to me to offer the rest of the sandwich to him. But I noticed that he was talking to himself somewhat loudly and incoherently, and I wasn’t sure whether it would be wise to interfere with him — that is, whether he might interpret my gesture in a way I didn’t intend it — and so I hesitated a moment to think this over. And then, because the train arrived while I was still debating the matter in my mind, I boarded the train without taking any action. And I watched the guy through the window of the carriage as the train moved away from him, into the tunnel.