Metropolitan DIARY
Special Order
Dear Diary:
I was on a business trip to Manhattan some years ago that brought me to the Manhattan neighborhood near the Fashion Institute of Technology.
A little hungry, I saw a coffee cart and got in line. Ahead of me were three young women who appeared to be students at the school.
I could hear them as they ordered. I don’t remember what the first one asked for, but I’ll never forget the second one’s order.
“A plain toasted bagel, con schmear, please,” she said.
— Doug Geller
Salsa Savior
Dear Diary:
I was walking past the 34th Street ferry terminal when I noticed a young woman holding a jar of salsa in front of her and looking expectantly at the people streaming off an arriving boat.
I assumed she was looking for a particular person and, sure enough, I saw her run toward a young man in a white shirt who was walking in her direction.
Watching her run toward him, I expected to see a hug, a kiss or some other kind of physical greeting.
Instead, she held out the jar of salsa.
Moving a bit closer, I observed the man open the jar and the woman jump gleefully up and down.
“Thank you!” she exclaimed. “Thank you so much.”
Her mission apparently accomplished, she walked away from the man and carried the jar to a nearby bench, where a companion was waiting with a bag of chips.
— Eric Mathern
They Scream
Dear Diary:
I often stop to chat with two older woman who sit on deck chairs outside a laundromat in my Bay Ridge neighborhood.
One day as I was passing them and saying hello, they were clearly eager to chat. I apologized for not being able to linger. I explained that I had ice cream in my shopping bags and didn’t want it to melt.
They looked curious. Since the ice cream was in small, single-serving cups, I asked whether they would like some. I had vanilla, strawberry and coffee, and they seemed good with any flavor.
I gave them each a cup and began to walk away but stopped and turned back toward them. I told them that the spoons were in the lids.
“Yeah,” one of them shouted with a bit of an edge in her voice. “I was going to say!”
— Mary McConnell
((As Dad used to say, 'I scream, You scream, we ALL scream for ICE CREAM!!!'))
https://www.nytimes.com/2025/08/24/nyregion/metropolitan-diary.html