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I Heart NY III

Johnny's number came up on my phone. Hey, Boo! I answered.

A different man's voice greeted me.

Panic: I simultaneously tried to make that voice be Johnny's & freaked out that he'd been once again hit by a car.

The man said he was at the bus stop on 2nd Avenue & 9th St, had found Johnny's iPhone, & would wait for me. I ran. Only one man was sitting there, a quiet older fellow, & he didn't seem like he was waiting for anyone, but it was indeed him.

Thank you, thank you!

Does your husband use a cane? He got into a cab.

He must have realized he didn't have his MetroCard, I guessed.

Maybe he was living large?

Not my husband! I said confidently.

As soon as I got there, the man took off, so he had really just had been patiently doing a nice thing. He wouldn't take money—a no of absolute integrity—but he gave me a hug.

I was, as I so often am, wrong in my speculations about Johnny, as I found out when I ran into him at the gym a little later: He'd taken a cab because the bus wasn't coming for too long; he figured he'd left his phone in the cab not at the bus stop; & he hadn't gone straight downtown to replace his special senior citizen Go Card but to get a mani-pedi.
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