Dear Diary:

It was Sunday morning. I woke up to find my girlfriend sitting on the edge of the bed in yoga pants and a rain jacket. She unlaced her tennis shoes.

“I tried to go for yoga,” she said, “but our doorknob fell off.”

“Are we stuck here?” ” I asked.

“For now, I guess,” she said, throwing a sneaker towards the closet.

“Did you call the super? “

“No,” she said. “I prefer to go back to bed.

– Danny McAlindon


Dear Diary:

I was walking through SoHo when I noticed a crowd outside the Crosby Street Hotel. I asked a young couple who they were expecting.

We don’t know, they said, explaining that they saw the crowd and decided to wait, too.

I asked how long they had been waiting.

About 30 minutes, they told me.

“Have you been waiting 30 minutes for someone you don’t know?” ” I asked.

– Yes, said one of them. “It could be a celebrity.”

I walked a few yards and saw a woman standing with what appeared to be her two teenage daughters.

“Who are you waiting for?” I asked him.

“We don’t know,” the woman said. “We saw the crowd and decided to wait. It could be someone famous.

“How long have you been waiting?” I asked.

“Maybe about 40 minutes or so,” the woman said. “Not really sure.”

At that point, the doors to the hotel opened, but only for the doorman to make sure the crowds were not blocking the entrance.

As I walked further down the block, I noticed a man sitting in a car.

“Are you waiting too? ” I asked him.

“You bet!” he said.

“But you don’t know who it is?” “

“Don’t worry about it, because it could be someone,” he said.

“And if it’s someone,” he added, “I don’t want to miss it.”

– Jeanne McAuliffe


Dear Diary:

I was on the Q at 8 a.m. making my daily commute from Park Slope to Times Square.

As it approached the Manhattan Bridge, the train stopped abruptly, as always. My friends and I call it the “East River” stop.

The train was packed that morning, and I was crammed against one of the doors next to a man in a red tracksuit.

Right in front of us was another man who was wearing a suit and trying to munch on a croissant, read, and sip his hot coffee at the same time. As he took a second precarious sip, the man next to me spoke up.

“You are trying to do too many things, my brother, too many things,” he cried. “I swear to God if you put coffee on those shoes, man …”

The man in the suit immediately stopped and looked up with a shocked expression on his face.

I couldn’t help but laugh because the guy in the tracksuit had just said what we were all thinking.

No coffee was spilled.

– Amanda Cordisco


Dear Diary:

I woke up late on a Saturday morning after a 6 hour work day on Friday. I was in pain and groggy. My two cats usually wake me up at exactly 6 a.m. for breakfast, but that morning they luckily let me sleep.

As I was making coffee in the kitchen, I looked down and noticed red paw prints all over the white tiles.

Alarmed, I ran into the bedroom to inspect the cats’ feet and bodies for injuries. They were yawning and seemed annoyed by my investigation.

Back in the kitchen, I pressed my nose to the floor to see if I could smell blood, but I couldn’t. I thought maybe the cats had looted the pantries, but a quick review of all the cupboards revealed no clues.

I cleaned up the mess and went back to brewing my coffee. When he was ready, I poured a cup and let my brain emerge from its haze.

While I was sitting there I noticed a notification on my phone. It was a text from my owner: “Jelly donut on a shelf in the front – enjoy it”.

It was punctuated with a smiley emoji.

– Gordon Arkenberg


Dear Diary:

It was the early 1980s, and I was driving through the upscale neighborhoods with a friend on the Madison Avenue bus. She was trying to describe a new invention she had just seen in her office: Post-it Notes. They were clingy but didn’t really stick to things, she said.

“They can be easily removed,” she explained, “leaving no glue on the page.”

I was a little confused.

“Well, how do they hold up if they don’t really have any glue?” ” I asked.

Just then a man sitting across from us got up from his seat, stuck a little square of yellow paper on the outside of my coat, and sat down.

I looked down and grabbed the piece of paper. It came.

Suddenly I understood.

– Leslie Long

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Illustrations by Agnès Lee