Here’s a good one:

                  I Decided to Hide the MetroCard Somewhere at the Terminal

                  Dear Metropolitan Diary:

                 Caro and I spent that college summer back home in Hoboken, traveling to
                 our internships via Port Authority each day.

                  My internship was unpaid, but it came with the stellar consolation prize of an
                  unlimited monthly MetroCard. I got a monthly bus pass too and bounced happily
                  around the boroughs to see friends on weekends.

Oh, you don’t find it so interesting. How about some Op-Ed? There’s a good Op-Ed by Tom Friedman. No? All right then, I just have a few things I’d like to say to you. I remember the first time I saw you at shul. Your smile was the brightest I had ever seen. It was so cute the way you would tilt your head when speaking to people. Little did I know when your son sat next to me during services, he was checking me out for you.

I’m glad you are as observant as I am. I dated several women before you and hardly any were very observant. I remember the time we had Thanksgiving with the Rubens and you refused the turkey because they hadn’t kept the packaging and they couldn’t convince you the turkey was kosher. You think that could be the reason they never invited us back for Thanksgiving?

You are as pretty as ever. No, I’m not trying to kiss-up to you. I’m being sincere. Yeah, it hasn’t always been peaches and cream or bagels and lox for us. Yes, that’s a bad joke. But in spite of our ups and downs, we have a pretty good marriage. You know, I wish we had met earlier in our lives. We would have made some great kids. Not that your son isn’t a wonderful guy. I couldn’t love him any more if he were my own son. And he found a perfect mate. Their children are special, too ‒ so smart. He did alright.

There’s a knock at the door. I’ll get it. Hi, Robert.

Mr. Klein, it’s almost time for the service. The pallbearers are here and they will move the coffin into the chapel.

Robert, I’d like to close the lid. So long sweetheart. I’ll find you in heaven.

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