“A woman crossing the street shouted at the man in the hat”

Dear Diary:

I was walking my dog ​​on the Lower East Side when I saw a man outside a bodega wearing a paper cook’s hat and a white apron. He was throwing something in the corner bin.

On the side of the hat, scribbled in red pencil, were the words “It’s my birthday.” Free hugs!!!”

A woman crossing the street shouted at the man in the hat.

“Hey, go get me some pieces of cheese!” she said.

“What?” he said.

“Go get me some pieces of cheese.”

“I don’t know anything about cheese. “

“A few pieces of cottage cheese. Go get them for me.

“I don’t know anything about cheese. “

The woman gave the man some change.

“Here,” she said. “Now go get me some pieces of cheese. “

“I don’t know anything about cheese. “

He took the change, returned to the bodega and showed the case of cold cuts.

– Susan Engbrecht


Dear Diary:

Several weeks ago, I was driving n ° 6 on my way to dinner to celebrate a friend’s birthday. It was the first time I had dressed in a long time.

A woman in front of me kept looking at me. I didn’t recognize her and wondered if she recognized me. I thought maybe she was looking at one of my favorite pieces of jewelry, an old silver squash flower necklace.

When she got to her stop, she pulled up on the way to the door.

“I love your hair,” she said.

– Kathy Rubin


Dear Diary:

On a trip to New York City with our twins a few years ago, my wife and I decided we should all take a cab from our hotel on the Upper West Side in Midtown instead of the subway. We hailed a cab on Broadway and settled in for the ride.

At the first red light, our driver pulled up, unfolded his newspaper, spread it out on the steering wheel, put on his reading glasses, grabbed his cup of coffee and started reading the newspaper.

When the light turned green, he methodically folded up the paper, removed the glasses, put them in his pocket, put his coffee in the cup holder and slowly accelerated.

My wife and I looked at each other as if to say, “He’s not going to do this in any light, is he?”

Of course, that’s exactly what he did on every red light we encountered. When we finally got to our destination, we all piled out of the cab and burst out laughing.

What else could we do?

– Richard Driscoll


Dear Diary:

Just before we got home from college for Christmas in 1973, my best friend and I went to Manhattan.

My flute teacher told me I needed a better flute, so we went to Manny’s on West 48th Street. I bought a flute and, not wanting to carry it while we were walking around town, we immediately returned to Grand Central Terminal and put it in a locker.

It was raining that day but we spent it walking, shopping and enjoying the Christmas windows. We had put on jeans, boots, long coats and hats and we were soaked by the time we got to the New York State Theater for the student rush.

For $ 5 a piece, we got boxes for the New York City Ballet’s “The Nutcracker”. We dried our hair under the hand dryers in the lovely bathroom, then found our seats and hung our wet socks on the railing in front of us to dry.

– Margaret O’Hara Best


Dear Diary:

When I was 17, I visited my sister in Brooklyn. After that, I couldn’t wait to grow up and move to New York.

While I was visiting my sister and I went to Carroll Gardens for dinner. As we got up to leave, the breathless busboy handed me a bouquet of white roses he had bought during his break and asked me to go out with him.

My sister told her that I was too young and that I was only visiting anyway.

When I finally came back to town as an adult, I walked past the space where the restaurant was located and let a wave of nostalgia wash over me.

Not far from there, I saw a young man choosing flowers in front of a small shop.

“She’ll love everything,” I said, walking past him.

He caught the cheapest peloton and admitted to being very nervous.

I slipped him a $ 10 bill from my purse and told him to take the white roses. They always make a girl feel special.

– Bailey Singletary

About Marion Alexander

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