‘His Friends Joined In Excitedly and Filmed the Encounter’

Stroke of Midnight

Dear Diary:

It was late one evening in fall 2021. I was relatively new to New York and had gotten a cheap rental on 143rd Street. Coming home most evenings on the 1 train from Chelsea, I would often settle in with a podcast or playlist.

On this particular night, however, I wasn’t wearing my headphones and happened to hear a teenage boy mention to his friends that it would be his birthday in 14 minutes. We were around 59th Street, and it was 11:46 p.m.

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 at 110th Street. The boy was still on the train. I checked the time: 11:56.

Another three minutes passed, and he didn’t get off. My heart was beating fast at what I was about to do: Would he like it? Would he think it was weird?

I waited until the clock struck midnight and broke into song. As I had hoped, the boy was shocked and delighted. His friends joined in excitedly and filmed the encounter. Some of the other passengers sang along.

After we finished, an older man sitting next to me spoke up in a shocked tone.

“It’s my birthday too!” he said. “I just turned 78!”

He pulled out his license to show me. He had been waiting for the clock to strike midnight too.

We all sang “Happy Birthday” again.

— Lucy Powers

Terrific Coat

Dear Diary:

I was on a crosstown bus on my way to meet a friend at Lincoln Center for a concert when I noticed a woman wearing what I thought was a terrific coat.

When I got to the theater and took my seat, I noticed that the woman with the terrific coat was sitting nearby on the other side of the aisle.

I smiled at her, noting the coincidence in my head when she smiled back. We started to chat and continued until my friend arrived.

I just got tickets for another event. I’ll be going with my new friend with the terrific coat.

— 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 kind of broke and I knew it would be the last time I ate there for a long time, so I ordered a large baked chicken platter, with enough for leftovers.

Years passed. Roommates came and went. Eventually, I was able to afford the whole place by myself. More time passed, and I decided to buy a place in Brooklyn.

On my last night on the Upper West Side, I decided to go back to the diner I had gone to that first night.

When I got there, I looked at the menu and saw the baked chicken platter. I thought about ordering it for old time’s sake but decided not to at the last minute.

“I am moving tomorrow,” I thought to myself. “And I don’t need the hassle of leftovers in the fridge.”

— Andrew Ettinger

Locked Up

Dear Diary:

I was in a seat toward the front of a 14th Street crosstown Select bus. We pulled up 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 ramp and both of them inched along, heads down, looking for a seat. One shuffled toward the left side of the bus, the other to the right.

Their walkers collided in a way that the wheels locked. They were blocking the entire width of the aisle but unable to reach down to unlock the wheels to clear the way. They didn’t even try. Behind them, five passengers waited.

The driver watched in silence. The bus didn’t move. I looked at the two people stuck with their walkers.

As I got up to try to help, a man sitting to my left got up too.

“I’ll get this one,” he said without looking at me and pointing to the walker to the left.

I went for the one on the right, took it from its owner and suggested she sit. As she did, the man and I untangled the walkers and folded them up.

We returned to our seats, the passengers who had been waiting moved toward the back and the driver started the bus.

— Georgie Lee

Dine and Dash

Dear Diary:

Setting: Broadway and 19th Street.

Characters: Me, walking north in a hurry while eating a sandwich, and a woman walking south at a quick pace, also eating a sandwich.