I got out at Queensboro Plaza, where the tracks are elevated above the street, and as I came down the first set of stairs, into the station, I looked around to see if there was anyone else to whom I could offer the sandwich, but I saw no one who seemed to me to fit that description, or idea, so I placed the paper sack, with the sandwich inside, on a wooden bench, in plain sight, in case someone who might be hungry might see it and come across it, though I didn’t have much confidence that such an outcome would occur. Then I went out through the walkway, or pedestrian bridge, and came down the stairs to the street, where immediately I saw a man standing beside the door to a deli, or bodega, asking people who were coming in and going out if they could please get him something to eat. Which made me almost turn around and go back up into the station to retrieve the sandwich, so that I could bring it down to offer to the man, but at this point my momentum was carrying me along my way, and the thought of climbing the stairs again and going through the walkway and into the station, for that purpose, seemed to me somewhat ridiculous, and struck me as almost performative, so I didn’t do it. Though part of me wished that I had, and wondered if I ought to have done so, for the sake of charity.