METROPOLITAN DIARY

[elleng]

Good Morning
Dear Diary:

I woke up in my 11th floor apartment on the Upper West Side and immediately smelled freshly brewed coffee.

I was puzzled since I live alone. I decided the smell must be coming through my open window.

Indeed, when I rolled up the blinds, I saw two construction workers having breakfast on a scaffolding.

“Coffee?” one of them said. “Bring your cup.”


Soup to Share
Dear Diary:

My wife and I lived on East 39th Street in Manhattan in the late 1970s. One evening, we decided to go across the street and down the block to a neighborhood bar, Suspenders, for dinner.

After being seated, we perused the menu and ordered a bowl of onion soup to share and two burgers, both to be cooked medium-rare.

When the waitress, a toughie who intimidated us when she took our order, brought out the soup, she glared at us as she dropped it at the table.

But she had only brought one spoon. Because we were sharing, we called her back and asked for another.

She gave us an annoyed look, but nevertheless brought out a second spoon.

A few minutes later, our burgers arrived. My wife tried hers and, finding it to be well done rather than medium-rare, she called the waitress back again and asked for another, properly cooked, burger in its place.

The waitress stood there for a moment, quiet but clearly brimming with hostility.

“I knew you was trouble,” she finally said, “when you ordered the two spoons!”

— Harvey R. Sheiber



https://www.nytimes.com/2021/12/19/nyregion/metropolitan-diary.html

[fierywoman]

1. I was twice (briefly) a NYC waitress ...! You have to be tough.

Thanks!

[elleng]

2. I knew you was trouble!!!

[fierywoman]

3. ...