Reason I Love NYC #7,695,432: We Have Each Other’s Backs

After a life-altering visit to a MoMa exhibition and a wonderful lunch atop yet another Manhattan museum, my bestie and I arrived at an Off-Broadway theater for our matinee.

I gave my name at the box office, and they couldn’t find my tickets. I offered to show them my e-mail confirmation and stepped to the side. All the while, the senior box-office person kept an eye on me.

I searched and searched. I went to my TDF app, where I had purchased the tickets. No record of my purchase.

I looked up, helplessly, sheepishly, at my bestie and the box-office person.

I cleared my throat and said, “Well, apparently, I neglected to actually buy the tickets. I am an idiot.”

I asked the box-office person if they had any tickets left for the performance that would begin in 15 minutes.

Through the glass, he looked me straight in the eyes, and said, “I am going to ask you a question, and I need you to shake your head yes.”

I focused.

He asked: “You are under 40 years old, correct?”

I shook my 57.5-year-old head.

He said: “Good. You can have our last two 40-for-40 tickets.”

At that moment, I loved no one in the world more than I loved that box-office person, who fixed my mistake and took care of me, as no one other than a fellow New Yorker can do.