‘His friends participated enthusiastically and filmed the meeting’
Strike of midnight
Dear Diary:
It was late one evening in the fall of 2021. I was relatively new to New York and had gotten a cheap rent on 143rd Street. Coming home on the 1 train from Chelsea most evenings, I often snuggled up with a podcast or playlist.
However, on this particular night, I wasn’t wearing my headphones and happened to overhear a teenager telling his friends that his birthday would be in 14 minutes. We were around 59th Street and it was 11:46 PM
I decided that if he stayed on the train until midnight, I would surprise him by singing “Happy Birthday.”
Several minutes passed. We were now on 110th Street. The boy was still on the train. I checked the time: 11:56.
Another three minutes passed and he didn’t get out. My heart started beating faster at what I was going to do: would he like it? Would he find it strange?
I waited until the clock struck midnight and started singing. As I had hoped, the boy was shocked and delighted. His friends joined in enthusiastically and filmed the encounter. Some other passengers sang along.
After we finished, an older man sitting next to me spoke in a shocked tone.
“It’s my birthday too!” he said. “I just turned 78!”
He pulled out his driver’s license to show it to me. He had waited until the clock struck midnight as well.
We all sang “Happy Birthday” again.
— Lucy Powers
Great fur
Dear Diary:
I was on a crosstown bus on my way to a friend at Lincoln Center for a concert when I saw a woman wearing what I thought was a great coat.
When I got to the theater and took my seat, I saw the woman with the amazing coat sitting nearby on the other side of the aisle.
I smiled at her and saw the coincidence in my head when she smiled back. We started chatting and continued until my friend arrived.
I just got tickets for another event. I’m going with my new friend with the great jacket.
— Samantha Modell
Last meal
Dear Diary:
I moved to the Upper West Side in 1995. I had an entry-level advertising job that paid just enough to rent the living room in a shared apartment. (At least it had a door.)
My first night there I ate at a diner around the corner. I was a bit broke and I knew it would be the last time I eat there for a long time, so I ordered a large fried chicken dish, with enough for leftovers.
Years passed. Roommates came and went. In the end I was able to afford the whole house on my own. More time passed and I decided to buy a house in Brooklyn.
On my last night on the Upper West Side, I decided to go back to the restaurant I had gone to that first night.
When I got there I looked at the menu and saw the fried chicken dish. I thought about ordering it for old time’s sake, but decided against it at the last minute.
“Tomorrow I’m moving,” I thought to myself. “And I don’t need the hassle of leftovers in the fridge.”
—Andrew Ettinger
Locked up
Dear Diary:
I sat in a seat at the front of a 14th Street Crosstown Select bus. We came to a stop and the driver released the folding ramp to accommodate two passengers with walkers who were waiting.
One followed the other up the driveway and both crept forward slowly, heads down, looking for a seat. One shuffled to the left side of the bus, the other to the right.
Their rollators collided in such a way that the wheels locked. They blocked the entire width of the aisle, but couldn’t reach down to unlock the wheels to clear the way. They didn’t even try. Five passengers waited behind them.
The driver watched silently. The bus didn’t move. I looked at the two people trapped with their walkers.
When I got up to try to help, a man sitting to my left also got up.
“I’ll get this one,” he said without looking at me and pointing to the walker on the left.
I went for the one on the right, took it from the owner and suggested she sit down. As she did, the man and I unhooked and folded the walkers.
We returned to our seats, the passengers who had been waiting moved back, and the driver started the bus.
— Georgia Lee
Dining and Dashing
Dear Diary:
Area: Broadway and 19th Street.
Characters: Me, walking north in a hurry while eating a sandwich, and a woman walking south at a brisk pace, also eating a sandwich.