‘At the End of the Bench, a Man Was Leaning Against the Railing'
Date Night #
My husband and I were on the C train one weeknight, long past rush hour. There were only four other passengers in the car. We sat in the middle, with a man leaning against the railing at the end of the bench.
As we chatted and scrolled on our phones, the man suddenly leaned toward my husband and extended a slightly opened package.
“Excuse me, do you want to try? Best dates in the world. The best. From Africa. From Algeria.”
“Oh! Yes, they look good,” my husband said, reaching over and taking one.
I was confused by their casual familiarity but didn’t want to be rude, so I took a date too. It was sticky and sweet but not overwhelmingly so.
“Be careful,” the man said, gesturing toward the pit.
Later, as we were getting off the train, my husband explained he had been watching the man eat his dates, perhaps too eagerly. When the man realized he was being watched, he decided to share.
Christmas Eve #
We visited our son in Astoria for Christmas. He was couch-surfing at a friend’s apartment with no decorations, not even a poinsettia.
After attending a Christmas Eve service in Manhattan and having Chinese food, we headed to the subway. On the way, we saw a Christmas tree vendor closing up near midnight. He had a three-foot tree on display with lights and a wooden stand.
When asked the price, he shrugged and offered it for free.
Giggling, I carried the tree through the turnstile and onto the train back to Astoria. We brought it up to the apartment, where it lit up our Christmas celebration the next morning.
Unusual Pause #
Walking to work down Park Avenue on a beautiful spring morning, I noticed a slender, well-groomed man in a nicely tailored suit ahead of me. He carried an impressive briefcase.
At 62nd Street, the man approached a building with a shiny, black marble facade. He set his briefcase down inches from the wall and then, to my horror, licked the marble wall.
After a moment, he retrieved his briefcase and continued on his way.
The Friday Dance #
Living near Union Square, I walked my dog around the Con Edison loading dock in the mornings before work. I became friendly with the plant manager, greeting him with a hug when we saw each other.
One Friday, we were both so happy it was the end of the week that we spontaneously started dancing. It became a habit - every Friday around 7:30 a.m., we would dance. Sometimes he would “do” the music, sometimes I would. Occasionally we’d get an audience.
Years later, a woman on the street recognized me. She explained that she lived across Third Avenue and had seen the Friday dance one morning. After that, she would wait with her cat at her window every Friday to watch us dance.
Trivia Night #
Walking up Third Avenue after work, I stopped at a bar for a pint of Guinness and a bite. I started chatting with a man celebrating his first day at a new job. We clinked glasses, and a nearby woman joined in, saying she had just interviewed for a job.
Our celebration was interrupted by the announcement of trivia night. We looked at each other, shrugged, and nodded.
We deliberated over questions about Beyoncé, slalom skiing, and radioactive elements. I blurted out “Einsteinium” for a question about a short half-life element that glows blue.
We finished trivia night strong, branded ourselves Team Einsteinium, and waved goodbye without exchanging contact information.