METROPOLITAN DIARY

[elleng]

Good First Date
Dear Diary:

I was on a very good first date in Riverside Park, but I had to meet friends near the Museum of Natural History.

Since I was new to New York, my date gave me directions to the nearest train station. We hugged goodbye, and I started to walk toward West 110th Street, glancing down every 30 seconds at Google Maps.

As I was walking, I heard someone driving down the street yell, “Hey!”

I pretended not to notice.

“Hey! Hey, you!”

Now other people were looking at me. Oh no.

Reluctantly, I turned my head to see a young man in a van. He stopped at a red light beside me.

“Come here,” he said.

I complied. He was grinning.

“She likes you,” he said.

“She what?”

“It’s all in the body language,” he said.

I stood there, perplexed.

“That woman you were with, giving you directions,” the van man said. “She likes you. I could tell.”

I cracked a smile.

“Thanks, man,” I said. “That’s good news.”

“No problem,” he said. “We’ve got to look out for each other.”

The light changed and he drove off. I continued walking, this time without looking down at Google Maps.

— Ben Cohen

Cool Breeze
Dear Diary:

One early fall morning some years ago, I decided to walk to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and spend a few hours there before meeting a friend for lunch.

It was one of those days when the weather could not make up its mind between bright and sunny or cool and cloudy. I grabbed a sweater from the closet, wrapped it around my waist and set off.

After wandering through the museum’s galleries for a while, I headed south on Fifth Avenue to meet my friend. The sun had just disappeared behind a large bank of gray clouds, and I was glad I’d brought a sweater.

Standing at a corner waiting for the light to change, a man at a hot-dog stand waved and called out to me.

“Lady, are you walking as far as 72nd Street?” he asked me.

I nodded.

He reached under his cart and pulled out a light blue windbreaker.

“Could you please take this to my wife?” he said. “She has a hot dog cart just like this one.”

“Of course,” I replied, grabbing the jacket just as the light turned green. The man grinned and waved.

About 10 minutes later, I spotted a shiny steel hot-dog cart. A woman stood beside it, her shirt collar turned up against the cool breeze.

“Your husband sent you this,” I said, handing her the jacket.

“Oh, thank you so much,” she replied with a smile, quickly putting the jacket on. “He is a good man.”

— Faith Andrews Bedford

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/08/22/nyregion/metropolitan-diary.html

[Nittersing]

1. I love these so much

Lived in NYC in the late 70s and these stories are so... New York.

I especially enjoyed the hot dog stand/rain coat delivery.

So New York.

Thanks elleng.