For Manhattan shirts, 1946.
I stopped by Buckley dining hall today for an afternoon snack after German. After scanning the very sad selection, I took a sunny seat by the window. I pulled out my book and was reading when a bunch of people from the kitchen staff sat down at the table next to me and started playing cards. I can’t even tell you how lucky I felt to be seeing this little part of their lives. I imagined that—whether conscious of it or not—they looked forward to 3:30 every day, just for the couple of minutes they spent passing around the deck and taking turns shuffling. The smirk the woman got on her face when she was about to win, the little thrill she got when she threw down her winning hand. It was simple but so inexplicably wonderful.
