best of metropolitan diary

Dear Diary:

I had just moved from California to the Upper West Side, and was in a neighborhood store, purchasing some plants for my new apartment. In front of me in line were two older New York couples.

The wife of the first couple said to the man behind the counter: “Got anything for squirrels? I don’t want to kill them; I just want to scare them away.”

To which her husband replied: “I want to kill them. What do you have to kill them?”

The second couple, behind them, interjected, “Where do you live?” It was determined that they all lived within one city block of each other.

The next question: “What does your squirrel look like?” After some discussion, it was agreed that it was the same squirrel.

“That’s him,” wife No. 2 said. “He’s got a feisty stance, and beady eyes.” To which her husband then suggested: “Let’s kill him together.”

The man behind the counter said, “We’re not killing squirrels here, ladies and gentlemen. This is Manhattan. We all got to get along.”

Naomi Starkman

DEAR DIARY:

I was trying on clothes in Filene’s, on Broadway and 79th Street, when I overheard the following conversation between a mother and child in the next cubicle:

“I like this cage, Mom.”

“It’s not a cage, dear. It’s a dressing room.”

“You look great in that dress, Mom.”

“No, I’m not getting it. I don’t look good in pink.”

“But I love it. You could just wear it when we’re home alone.”

Eva Oppenheim