Metropolitan Diary; Rose Is Rose

Dear Diary:

My mother was placing an order for a pizza delivery. When the clerk asked her name, she said, “Rosenfeld,” and started to spell it: “R-O- —”

The clerk stopped her and said: “You don’t need to spell it. I’m Birnbaum.”

-Amy Shaffer Crawley

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Dear Diary:

On my way home on Christmas Day from Pennsylvania Station via Amtrak, I left the station not by the usual exit, but by one in a little-used area.

A homeless man who appeared to be inebriated was reclining midway up the steps. As I passed him, he muttered: “Nice haircut. You didn’t get that in New Jersey.” Allie Tabak