On Madison Avenue
The new commute began in November, a grey, sleeting month that was all of the extra dreary as a result of the job in Stamford that I had loved for 2 years had been moved to New York.
I hate commuting, however when a boss who works you laborious however makes you snort asks you to attempt it and pays your bills to take action, that’s simply what you do.
The Madison Avenue bus had a line a block lengthy, generally longer, within the morning. Early on, I determined to stroll the 14 blocks north fairly than ready. I’d go straight up Madison to keep away from having to dodge the crowds close to St. Patrick’s Cathedral and Rockefeller Center.
One morning, I was 10 blocks into my stroll when I noticed a tall man striding south with a lengthy coat draped over his shoulder. He was tan, with nice posture, a serene demeanor and a couple of males who weren’t fairly as visually spectacular strolling at his facet.
From then on, I would see him on the identical block on the identical time each morning.
One day, he smiled at me and nodded, and I, flattered, did the identical. After that, this elegant and seemingly mysterious man would repeat the smile and nod every single day, and I got here to rely on seeing him to enhance my temper each morning, which he did.
I finally left the job for one nearer to house, however the picture of this man stayed contemporary in my thoughts. I had no concept who he was, however I imagined that he have to be somebody essential due to his clothes and assured air.
One day, the newspaper featured images of individuals attending the opening of a museum exhibit, and there he was: Halston.
— Aimee Harrison
I was at a barbershop in Midtown. It had a signal on the door that stated it did “express” haircuts.
An older man entered, described how he wished his hair reduce and instantly fell asleep within the chair.
Fifteen minutes later, the sound of the hair dryer woke him up.
“That was fast indeed,” he stated.
— Sergii Pershyn
It was some years in the past, and we had 4 front-row, center-balcony seats for a Metropolitan Opera efficiency of “Othello.” A younger couple who weren’t aware of the opera accepted an invite to hitch us.
During the taxi trip from the restaurant the place we had dinner to Lincoln Center, we unraveled the plot for our companions. With 4 passengers within the cab, I sat within the entrance seat and narrated to the rear.
The cab’s arrival on the Met coincided with my recounting of Iago’s plot of the hid handkerchief. I tried handy the fare to the motive force as we ready to get out. He stopped me.
“No one is leaving until I hear the end,” he stated.
— Vern Schramm
My dentist had been attempting to avoid wasting a giant molar for weeks. On a Tuesday, I referred to as him in nice ache, and he took it out the following day.
If you’ve ever had a tooth extracted, the dentist or surgeon places in a few sutures and packs the opening with gauze that you simply substitute on an hourly foundation.
After leaving the dentist’s workplace, I received on the elevator. There was a girl standing diagonally throughout from me.
“Your boot laces are undone,” she stated.
“I know,” I garbled by means of the gauze and the Novocain. “I just had a tooth pulled and have gauze packing. I can’t bend over.”
“But you’re going to trip and fall,” she stated.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Let me tie it for you.”
“No, that’s not necessary,” I stated, “but thanks.”
She knelt down, tied the undone laces on certainly one of my boots and tightened the laces on the opposite.
“That’s so sweet of you,” I stated. “Thanks.”
“Now you won’t trip,” she stated because the elevator opened on the floor ground.
— Arthur Davis
I was within the metropolis on enterprise from California. Icy chilly December air hit me as I left my lodge within the morning. Looking ahead to a brisk stroll to the workplace, I buttoned up my coat and waved off the doorman who had supplied to flag me a cab.
I made my manner up Madison Avenue. It was a longer stroll than I anticipated, so I picked up my tempo.
Red gentle. Green gentle. Walk.
I was about to step off the curb, my foot in midair, when I felt myself jerked backward violently by my coat’s collar. A wall of yellow taxi cabs whooshed by means of the intersection.
Shaken, I circled.
There he was: a massive man in a crimson Santa hat.
“Lady,” he stated in an exasperated tone, “you must be from California.”
— Nanki Siegel
Read all latest entries and our submissions tips. Reach us through e-mail [email protected] or observe @NYTMetro on Twitter.
Illustrations by Agnes Lee