With daytime temps in the 30s, we had to bundle up against the weather every day we were in NYC. I could get by with a pair of trousers below my waist but wore many layers on my torso, usually an undershirt, a long-sleeved cotton shirt, and a flannel shirt. When I went outside, I layered up even further in a fleece jacket and an all-weather overcoat, covering my head in a knit cap and my hands in a pair of knit gloves. I still froze. The only times I can remember being warm in NYC were when we were waiting in the lobby of Rockefeller Center to get into Late Night with Seth Meyers, and when I curled up in bed in flannel pajamas. Every other minute of every day, I was cold. My nose was running, my teeth were chattering, my fingers were numb. I was a Popsicle.

I think Barb was cold, too, but not all the time, just when we were outside. She never wore a hat but, like me, brought a pair of knit gloves with her. Almost as soon as she got there, though, she wanted to buy a second pair that she could wear when we used public transport. Grabbing hand rails and poles in subway cars and buses kind of squicked her out, so she wanted a pair of gloves she could toss in the garbage when we were done. It wasn’t just her. I planned to burn my knit gloves after we left, too. I saw things. Icky things.

We stopped at the clothing store up the street from our hotel so she could buy a second pair, but the cheapest gloves they sold were forty dollars a pair, too much for her penny-pinching soul. She didn’t get any gloves there.

Then we passed a wholesale shop on the way to catch a bus. She ducked in to see what they offered and found just what she was wanted, a package of one dozen cheap-looking, machine-knit gloves. The guy at the front counter quoted her a price of six dollars.

“Six dollars a pair?” Barb asked for clarity, thinking that had to be what he meant.

“Six dollars for the whole dozen,” the guy answered. “If you want just one pair, you’ll have to wait for me to get you some from the back.”

She was happy to buy the whole dozen.