METROPOLITAN DIARY
Unusual Companion
Dear Diary:
I was walking along Central Park near 59th Street. It was raining heavily, and then it started to hail.
The sidewalk was empty. Cold rain seeped through my pants, and hailstones clinked all around me. I tried to pick up my pace, hunching forward into the wind.
Suddenly a motion to my right made me turn my head. What I saw nearly halted me: A bird was walking parallel to me in the same direction a few feet away.
It was no ordinary city bird. It was a turkey, and it was walking beside me on Central Park West.
I looked over at my companion, but it paid me no heed and kept striding along. The poor bird was soaked. Rivulets of water ran off its wattle. Hailstones bounced off its body with a muted patter.
A wild thought occurred to me, and I approached the bird with my umbrella extended. The turkey swiftly changed course to walk behind the benches.
I righted my umbrella and shook my head. Silly bird, I thought. I only wanted to share my meager shelter. I burst out laughing at the image.
The sound startled the bird and prompted it to move even further away. We continued walking side by side, the benches between us, until I had to cross at Columbus Circle.
— Julia Heifets
Star-Struck
Dear Diary:
It was 1969 and I wanted nothing more for my 16th birthday than to see “The Great White Hope” on Broadway. The show had just won multiple Tony Awards, including best actor for James Earl Jones and best actress for Jane Alexander.
I lived in South Fallsburg, in the Catskills, and I never imagined that my boyfriend at the time would surprise me with tickets or that my parents would allow me to go into the city.
The show was mesmerizing and when it was over, we stayed by the stage door to get my program autographed. After nearly an hour, we were one of two young couples still waiting when James Earl Jones popped his head out.
Noting our perseverance, he invited us backstage. He was charming, and after a few minutes in the great actor’s company, this star-struck teen left with his signature on her Playbill.
More than 40 years later, I went to hear Jane Alexander give a lecture. When it was over, I got on the line with those who were waiting to get books signed.
When I got to the front, I presented my treasured program, told her my story and left with her autograph next to the one from James Earl Jones.
— Sari Feldman
Wine for Dinner
Dear Diary:
I got dressed up one Sunday and took the train from Brooklyn to Manhattan for a date. It was obvious after the first round of drinks that we weren’t well matched and we parted amicably.
Ravenous and not willing to waste a good outfit and the train fare, I walked across the street to Gotham Bar & Grill to try the new menu while reading my book.
I had just sat down at the empty bar and opened my book when the bartender said that on Sundays, they only served a prix fixe menu. The “prix” had been fixed well beyond my budget, but I was already sitting so I settled for sauvignon blanc for dinner.
A man came into the restaurant and sat down one seat away. He ordered dinner and a bottle of wine. After a few minutes, he asked if I liked red wine, and then he poured me a glass.
I scooted over and we talked about art, travel and books while I sipped his wine and hungrily watched his meal arrive course by course.
When he had finished his entree, the bartender asked what he wanted for dessert.
He looked at me.
“Two pear tarts,” he said.
— Alison Hutchison
https://www.nytimes.com/2022/03/06/nyregion/metropolitan-diary.html
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