Sunday morning at The Roost Cafe...

Why I read the

NEW YORK 

TIMES

...from the 
Metropolitan Diary
feature

'As a graduate student living in Morningside Heights in the 1970s, I had a position doing field work that required me to travel by train every Wednesday to Fairfield County, Conn., and back from Grand Central Terminal.

The train I usually returned on arrived at Grand Central around 11.30 p.m.   I would dash to Madison Avenue and, with luck, grab a northbound M4 bus to take me to Broadway and 122nd Street.

Over the course of the year, the bus I usually caught had the same driver.   We struck up long-winded conversations every week while never introducing ourselves to each other.   I dreaded missing that bus because the next one would not come for quite a while.

One night, my train was late, and I was sure that I would not make my usual bus.   Nonetheless, I dashed from the terminal.

As I approached the bus stop, I spotted the M4 parked, as if off-duty.   Picking up speed, I heard the engine rev and saw the door open.

"You're late," the driver said as I climbed aboard.'

Please comment if you wish.

Barry Wallace