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‘This was my first visit to the city and I had an interview arranged’


Dear Diary:

I was standing on the platform at Lexington Avenue and 68th Street with a subway map in hand. This is my first visit to the city and I have scheduled an interview, so I wanted to make sure I came to the right place.

I turned to the man beside me.

“Sir,” I said, “Do I have the Number 6 train here?”

“There is no such train,” he replied.

“But this map shows the Number 6 train coming here,” I said.

“I’ve been commuting to work for the last 15 years, and I tell you there’s no such thing as a train.”

As he said this, a train of 6 entered the station.

“Sir,” I said, “you said there was no No. 6 train, but here it is.”

“That,” he said, “is the local Lexington.”

– Anil Pandit


Dear Diary:

I live north of Queens and never drive into Manhattan if I can help. But on a Sunday afternoon, while I was sitting at home, I remember that when I got home from work on a Friday night, I parked my car in a spot to clean the street Monday from 9:30 to 11 a.m. and I have a 10 a.m. appointment in Manhattan. in Monday.

I went out to try to find a spot that didn’t require me to move the car the next day. After circling some of the nearby properties, I realized that the only available spots would force me to do so. Everything else is complete.

Accepting my fate, I found a possible void in front of my building. It was near a gully and was actually big enough for two cars, but one was parked there leaving barely room for me.

However, I pulled over and started backing up when I realized the driver was there. I got out of the car and approached him.

“Will you stay here until tomorrow morning?” I said. “I want to fight you so I’m not in the fire hydrant zone.”

“What time do we have to move tomorrow?” he asks

“9:30,” I said, “but I’ll be gone long before that.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “Just give it a try.”

I jumped into my car and backed within 6 inches of his bumper. When I got out of the car, he called me.

He was holding out a packet of long, thin bread in a bag of white bread.

“Do this!” he say.

“What is it?” I ask

“A piece of bread. I have two! It’s fresh. ”

“Did you make this?”

“Yes, enjoy it.”

“Oh! Thanks, I will.”

I turned around and walked into my building, trying to decide what I was going to eat with my fresh bread.

– G. Victor Paulson


Dear Diary:

I visited New York for the first time in 1988. Compared to me, I am from Vancouver, British Columbia, a small town, and I am very excited to be in the big city.

I stayed at the Excelsior Hotel on the Upper West Side, a well-kept secret by Canadians because of its reasonable prices and prime location near the National Museum of History.

On the first day, I went down to the lobby and asked the man at the desk if he could call a taxi for me.

Call your own taxi, he replied.

I don’t know the phone number, I said.

He laughed, pointed out a corner, raised his hand to the sky, and whistled.

That’s how you call a cab, eh, he said.

– Lee Saxell


Dear Diary:

I was an aspiring philosopher in graduate school in Minnesota. My girlfriend is an aspiring New Yorker.

When she emerged from a brownstone on the north side of Washington Square Park with a smile saying she had matriculated to New York University, I worried that if we stayed together, she I will have to give up my will, or I will have to give up mine.

To avoid that, we stuffed 300 envelopes with my inquiry letters to universities and community colleges in the New York City area, looking for classes to teach me while I wrote my thesis.

Only one person invited me to interview. My first New York City salary wasn’t even enough to pay a month’s rent, but it gave my future wife and I hope that we could make money in the city.

– Christopher Michaelson


Dear Diary:

There’s a popular restaurant on the Upper West Side that’s the only place nearby that serves grilled ribs. I went there one evening to get some.

My order came with cornbread. It was delicious, but the portion was too small, so I ordered another one.

Not wanting to seem cheap, I asked the waiter to add it to the check. He did, but in an unexpected way.

When the bill came, it said: Iced tea, BBQ ribs, extra cornbread, please.

– Don Hauptman

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Illustration by Agnes Lee






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