Take Me to the Bad Old Bronx I was waiting on a subway platform at Union Square one afternoon this August when an attractive young woman with a French accent and a camera slung around her neck approached me to ask which train went to the Bronx. I explained that they all did, and asked her where she was headed. "I want to go somewhere bad in the Bronx," she replied. Excuse me? I asked, certain I had misheard her. "I want to see a really bad area, the worst and most dangerous area," she said. Where I should go? A train pulled into the station, and we boarded. "Well, if you want it to be really bad," I said, playing straight man, "maybe you should wait till after dark. But you might be about 15 years too late for what you are seeking. I tried to interest her in other Bronx attractions - the Bronx Zoo, Yankee Stadium - but she insisted that she had recently traveled to Lebanon and Cairo and that the Bronx didn't worry her. I studied the subway map with an eye on the South Bronx. Would Hunts Point fit the bill? As she and I consulted, others overheard and started to chime in. I won't tell you where the consensus took her, but no one can say that New Yorkers aren't helpful.