Metropolitan Diary

Supermoon
Dear Diary:

I was walking down a street on the Upper East Side one fall weeknight, lost in some personal problem, when I heard a voice shout: “Stop!”

The voice, it turned out, belonged to a small, older woman in a maroon coat.

“Back up and look up,” she said.

I did as I was told.

The several steps back I took brought me out from under an awning so that suddenly I could see the moon, big and brilliant, hanging over the street. I hadn’t noticed just how bright a night it was.

“It’s a supermoon,” the woman said. “I heard about it on the radio. NPR. I just had to come out and see it.”

“And,” she continued, pointing the pint container in her hand heavenward, “why wouldn’t I get myself some ice cream, too?”

“It’s wonderful,” I said, and we stood right there, listening to the happy clatter from a nearby Italian restaurant and admiring the supermoon together.

— Sarah Skinner

Nice Place
Dear Diary:

When I lived in Park Slope over 20 years ago, I once had to call an ambulance because of a sudden, violent case of food poisoning.

Two paramedics, a man and a woman, entered our third-floor walk-up with a portable chair. Strapping me in, the male medic quickly inserted an IV line into my arm.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his partner circling around and admiring the apartment.

“Nice place you’ve got here.” she said. “Do you own it?”

“Yeah,” I muttered, all but unconscious.

Once I was in the ambulance, she returned to her line of inquiry.

“Do you mind me asking how much you paid for your apartment?”

“$155,000,” I croaked.

“Wow! You must have bought during the recession.”

“Yeah” I said.

They dropped me off at Methodist Hospital, where I was tended to by a nurse as I struggled to stay lucid.

At some point, the same medic poked her head into the room with one last question:

“You wouldn’t be wanting to sell any time soon, would you?”

— Melinda DeRocker

https://www.nytimes.com/2025/07/20/nyregion/metropolitan-diary.html