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‘There Was a Woman Sitting Alone at the End of the Bar’ | ‘There Was a Woman Sitting Alone at the End of the Bar’ |
(2 days later) | |
Dear Diary: | Dear Diary: |
My friend and I were waiting for two bar stools to open up at a cozy hotel restaurant on a crisp fall night. | My friend and I were waiting for two bar stools to open up at a cozy hotel restaurant on a crisp fall night. |
There was a woman sitting alone at the end of the bar next to the only free chair. She was staring idly into the distance, an empty tumbler in front of her. | There was a woman sitting alone at the end of the bar next to the only free chair. She was staring idly into the distance, an empty tumbler in front of her. |
My friend got the bartender’s attention and asked if he knew how much longer the woman would be sitting there. | My friend got the bartender’s attention and asked if he knew how much longer the woman would be sitting there. |
The bartender looked at the woman with a sense of recognition and then slowly turned to my friend. | The bartender looked at the woman with a sense of recognition and then slowly turned to my friend. |
“Indefinitely,” he said dryly. | “Indefinitely,” he said dryly. |
“Indefinitely?” | “Indefinitely?” |
The bartender looked at the woman again. | The bartender looked at the woman again. |
“Indefinitely.” | “Indefinitely.” |
Two other seats eventually opened up and my friend and I had a great dinner. When we left, the woman was still sitting there with her finished drink, watching the wheels turn all around her. | Two other seats eventually opened up and my friend and I had a great dinner. When we left, the woman was still sitting there with her finished drink, watching the wheels turn all around her. |
— Geoffrey Rubin | — Geoffrey Rubin |
Dear Diary: | Dear Diary: |
I lived in the East Village for three months in the summer before I graduated from college, subletting a bedroom in a sixth-floor walk-up. One of the perks of the place was that it came with a big-screen TV and cable. | I lived in the East Village for three months in the summer before I graduated from college, subletting a bedroom in a sixth-floor walk-up. One of the perks of the place was that it came with a big-screen TV and cable. |
One lazy Saturday afternoon I was watching “The Best Thing I Ever Ate” on the Food Network. A new segment started, and the camera panned across building facades that were familiar to me, before eventually settling on the front door of my building. | One lazy Saturday afternoon I was watching “The Best Thing I Ever Ate” on the Food Network. A new segment started, and the camera panned across building facades that were familiar to me, before eventually settling on the front door of my building. |
I had failed to notice that I lived next door to a Vietnamese bakery that sold the best banh mi someone had ever eaten. | I had failed to notice that I lived next door to a Vietnamese bakery that sold the best banh mi someone had ever eaten. |
As the show’s hosts described the sandwich, I popped up, slipped on my sandals, hopped down the stairs and ordered a tofu banh mi for $6. | As the show’s hosts described the sandwich, I popped up, slipped on my sandals, hopped down the stairs and ordered a tofu banh mi for $6. |
“I just saw you on TV,” I told the woman behind the counter as she handed me my change. | “I just saw you on TV,” I told the woman behind the counter as she handed me my change. |
She pointed to the wall where a printed screenshot from the episode hung in a frame. | She pointed to the wall where a printed screenshot from the episode hung in a frame. |
I trudged back upstairs and finished watching the show as I enjoyed the sandwich they were talking about. The crunchy baguette was still steaming. | I trudged back upstairs and finished watching the show as I enjoyed the sandwich they were talking about. The crunchy baguette was still steaming. |
It was a very satisfying lunch. | It was a very satisfying lunch. |
— Eden Weingart | — Eden Weingart |
Dear Diary: | Dear Diary: |
As a graduate student living in Morningside Heights in the 1970s, I had a position doing field work that required me to travel by train every Wednesday to Fairfield County, Conn., and back from Grand Central Terminal. | As a graduate student living in Morningside Heights in the 1970s, I had a position doing field work that required me to travel by train every Wednesday to Fairfield County, Conn., and back from Grand Central Terminal. |
The train I usually returned on arrived at Grand Central around 11:30 p.m. I would dash to Madison Avenue and, with luck, grab a northbound M4 bus to take me to Broadway and 122nd Street. | The train I usually returned on arrived at Grand Central around 11:30 p.m. I would dash to Madison Avenue and, with luck, grab a northbound M4 bus to take me to Broadway and 122nd Street. |
Over the course of the year, the bus I usually caught had the same driver. We struck up long-winded conversations every week while never introducing ourselves to each other. I dreaded missing that bus because the next one would not come for quite a while. | Over the course of the year, the bus I usually caught had the same driver. We struck up long-winded conversations every week while never introducing ourselves to each other. I dreaded missing that bus because the next one would not come for quite a while. |
One night, my train was late, and I was sure that I would not make my usual bus. Nonetheless, I dashed from the terminal. | One night, my train was late, and I was sure that I would not make my usual bus. Nonetheless, I dashed from the terminal. |
As I approached the bus stop, I spotted the M4 parked, as if off-duty. Picking up speed, I heard the engine rev and saw the door open. | As I approached the bus stop, I spotted the M4 parked, as if off-duty. Picking up speed, I heard the engine rev and saw the door open. |
“You’re late,” the driver said as I climbed aboard. | “You’re late,” the driver said as I climbed aboard. |
— Richard Coffey | — Richard Coffey |
Dear Diary: | Dear Diary: |
I proposed to my girlfriend on the Brooklyn Bridge Promenade with the sun setting over New York Harbor in the background. | I proposed to my girlfriend on the Brooklyn Bridge Promenade with the sun setting over New York Harbor in the background. |
I had decided not to have a friend lurk in the bushes and take photos. I wanted it to be a moment that only we would share. | I had decided not to have a friend lurk in the bushes and take photos. I wanted it to be a moment that only we would share. |
I proposed. She said yes. We hugged and cried and took some time to enjoy the moment for ourselves. | I proposed. She said yes. We hugged and cried and took some time to enjoy the moment for ourselves. |
After about two minutes had passed, a German tourist approached us. | After about two minutes had passed, a German tourist approached us. |
“Can I Airdrop to your phones the photos I just took of your engagement?” he asked. | “Can I Airdrop to your phones the photos I just took of your engagement?” he asked. |
— Michael Pisem | — Michael Pisem |
Dear Diary: | Dear Diary: |
My first New York apartment was a scruffy, narrow loft. It had 11 bedrooms jutting off a skinny hallway, including an under-the-stairs cave and above it, what we called the D.J. booth (it had no door). | |
My bedroom window looked out onto the cacophony of Canal Street. Trucks on their way to the Holland Tunnel rumbled by at all hours. The living room looked onto quiet Lispenard Street at the other end of the loft. The place had two bathrooms, one small kitchen and no dishwasher. | My bedroom window looked out onto the cacophony of Canal Street. Trucks on their way to the Holland Tunnel rumbled by at all hours. The living room looked onto quiet Lispenard Street at the other end of the loft. The place had two bathrooms, one small kitchen and no dishwasher. |
There were about a dozen of us there — someone’s boyfriend or girlfriend was always moving in or out — and we all led our own separate lives. Sometimes we would convene to play poker or share a meal. | There were about a dozen of us there — someone’s boyfriend or girlfriend was always moving in or out — and we all led our own separate lives. Sometimes we would convene to play poker or share a meal. |
One day, a few of the guys found a huge television on a sidewalk in TriBeCa. It had a sign on it that said, “I work, I promise, enjoy.” | One day, a few of the guys found a huge television on a sidewalk in TriBeCa. It had a sign on it that said, “I work, I promise, enjoy.” |
The guys hauled it back to our building and up several flights of stairs and then plunked it in the living room. | The guys hauled it back to our building and up several flights of stairs and then plunked it in the living room. |
We had not previously had a TV, so we were initially excited. Movie nights ensued. But arguments quickly broke out about who could watch what and when. Nothing was the same after that. | We had not previously had a TV, so we were initially excited. Movie nights ensued. But arguments quickly broke out about who could watch what and when. Nothing was the same after that. |
It wasn’t long before I moved out. | It wasn’t long before I moved out. |
— Becca Bergman Bull | — Becca Bergman Bull |
Read all recent entries and our submissions guidelines. Reach us via email diary@nytimes.com or follow @NYTMetro on Twitter. | Read all recent entries and our submissions guidelines. Reach us via email diary@nytimes.com or follow @NYTMetro on Twitter. |
Illustrations by Agnes Lee | Illustrations by Agnes Lee |