Snapshots from New York City

We were walking through a street market, and my friends were a few steps behind me. I stopped to let them catch up, pausing just long enough for a middle-aged Chinese man to pop out of the Shiatsu tent and grab my shoulders. "Free sample, free sample!" he kept chanting, as he boldly kneaded my shoulders through the straps of my backpack with frightening strength. I wriggled and writhed from his grasp, telling him, "No," again and again. I never thought I would refuse a free massage, but I never expected to receive one from a perfect stranger, either.