METROPOLITAN DIARY

Tuxedo Trouble
Dear Diary:

In town for a black-tie wedding at the Plaza, my wife and I spent a leisurely afternoon enjoying an unseasonably warm December day.

When we got back to our room at a nearby hotel, I discovered that I had left my tuxedo shirt at home. I called down to the concierge and explained my situation.

“Hmm,” she said. “Well, you can run out and buy a shirt.”

“But the wedding is in a half-hour,” I replied.

“Sorry, sir,” she said. “I hope you make it. Good luck.”

Running downstairs in search of a store, I passed through the lobby’s revolving doors and noticed that the bellmen were wearing white shirts.

I went back in.

“Excuse me,” I said to one who looked about my size. His name was Paul. “I’ve got a wedding in 25 minutes and no shirt. Can you help?”

He hesitated.

“What size are you?” he asked.

“Sixteen neck, 32 sleeve,” I said.

He disappeared through a side door and came out minutes later holding a freshly laundered white shirt, on a hanger no less.

I could have kissed him. Instead, I thanked him profusely and handed him $50.

After a late checkout the next morning, I found Paul to return the shirt and get my checked bags.

He asked about the wedding, and I joked that we had looked great together. He began to walk away and then turned back.

“Thanks for showing my shirt a good time last night,” he said.

— Barry Offitzer

‘Here, Kitty’
Dear Diary:

My first apartment in New York City was a ground-floor studio in a prewar building on West End Avenue.

I was studying there one afternoon when I saw an older woman peering through the security bars on my window.

“Here, kitty, kitty!” she said.

Noticing me seated at the table near the window, she became startled.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” she said. “I just wanted to say hi to your cat. I speak to him every day when I walk by.”

I told her he was taking a nap but that I could take a message.

“Tell him I’ll be back tomorrow,” she said.

— Nassim Behi

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/03/31/nyregion/metropolitan-diary.html