Go solo
Dear Diary:
I’ve been married a little over a year and the single life ritual I miss the most is going out to dinner alone. Sitting alone at the bar is one of my favorite pastimes. My husband initially assumed it was a sign of a breakup between us. He learns differently.
This year I made a New Year’s resolution to have a regular solo dinner date. On my first night out without my husband, I took myself to a charming Italian bistro in Fort Greene.
The restaurant was lively and naturally full on a Saturday night, but there was no wait for someone to be ready to take a seat at the bar.
Another woman dining alone sat down next to me and ordered a martini – shaken, three olives – and a crudo appetizer. She picked up a book and began to read.
I was reading a magazine. So there we were, our arms at our sides, sipping our drinks, turning pages. We acknowledged the unspoken club we were a part of with a nod.
My food arrived: a pizza with six slices of funghi. I closed my magazine and began to eat, savoring every bite as I realized there was no expectation that I would talk to anyone.
Halfway through my meal, the woman next to me turned to me.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but I really have to tell you how much I appreciate your solo negroni and pizza moment.”
“Me too,” I said. “Me, too.”
—Simone Rebecca Spilk
Uptown hat
Dear Diary:
I usually walk the 12 blocks to my gym, but my knee hurt, so I took the M31 bus at 79th Street and York Avenue to 91st Street.
I had my hair cut that morning and was on my way to a yoga class. It wasn’t that cold outside, so I put my hat in my jacket pocket in case I got cold while waiting for the bus home. I didn’t want to crush my freshly cut hair.
When I got off the bus, I immediately noticed that my hat had fallen out of my pocket. I liked the hat. It had a rose on the side made from the hat fabric. I was angry and annoyed with myself.
After class I waited to take the bus home. When the time came, a friend from the neighborhood got on when I did, and we sat together in the front of the bus.
“Did you lose a white hat?” said a woman sitting across from us.
How did she know? There it was, two hours later under my seat on the same bus. I would never have seen it. I thanked her profusely.
— Janet Das
Grand piano
Dear Diary:
My friend’s friend was a beginning classical pianist. One of my favorite pastimes was lying under the grand piano with a pillow under my head.
The vibrations of the piano hammers awakened my whole being as his hands played the keyboard. The acoustics invited pure bliss and a retreat. I enjoyed watching his feet alternate between the pedals in his custom Italian shoes.
I fantasized about returning to the carpet under the Steinway in his Upper West Side apartment for informal rehearsals. He often practiced for hours.
“Enough?” he would ask.
“Never,” I replied.
— Judith Gropp
Moses Allison
Dear Diary:
We first heard Mose Allison play during a basement dive in Washington in the 1960s, bought his album “Mose Allison Sings” and became lifelong fans.
He was scheduled to play City Winery in March 2010. I emailed his wife, Audre, and asked if Mose would sign my album if we brought it to the show.
“Of course Mose will sign your album,” she said.
When we got to City Winery, I asked the manager if I could go backstage and have Mose sign my album.
No, he said, but if you turn around, you can ask him right now.
And there he was.
— Brad Henry
Starling on the 6
Dear Diary:
Recently I was on the 6 train at Pelham Bay Park station. It’s at the end of the line so the doors were open while the train was waiting to leave.
A man was sitting across from me eating a sandwich. A starling jumped on the train and began to walk towards him. He stamped his feet gently to keep the bird from approaching.
The starling then came walking towards me. On the floor under the seat across from me was a small piece of something. The bird began to peck at it.
As the man with the sandwich and I watched the bird, a booming voice came over the loudspeaker: “Keep away from the closing doors.”
The bird spun around quickly and flew away, with seconds left to clear the door.
The man with the sandwich and I burst out laughing.
— Melanie Benvenue
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