Liz Wolfe | earth
139
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Years ago in New York, it was common to see people handing out flyers in the subway. En route to work each morning, I would often see one particular group who offered commuters bright orange flyers. The evangelists would scatter themselves along the corridors in groups of twos and threes, such that I would have to weave in between them to avoid their outstretched hands. I had my approach down to a science – a slightly lowered gaze, tightly gripped purse, along with a short, terse shake of the head – to indicate that I was not interested. Still, the next person down the line would insistently shove the paper toward me, forcing me to repeat the same gesture until I was out of the minefield.