"Only in New York" - an "angel" for Christmas

I see many things in my day to day adventures in this city that prompt the thought "Only in New York... (Insert your favorite ending here.) Once, somewhere in the vacinity of 42nd and Broadway (also known as Nightmare and My Personal Hell) I walked past a theater with tens of costumed young girls and their mothers waiting to see the live Broadway version of The Little Mermaid only to be in front of a strip joint a few places later. Usually, "Only in New York" ends with a sardonic crack about the hustle, or the grit or the beauty of a flying piece of garbage as seen from the 6th story of my high rise office building. Today it was something much better...

I was rushing (as usual) out of work to make an appointment that only happened to be a few blocks away, thankfully. I stopped in my tracks when I saw something shiny and pretty on the street. I knew immediately what it was...an iPhone. I looked around and picked it up and immediately a moral dilemma ensued. I could have a new phone if I wanted. And not just a new phone, a new phone that pretty much everyone I know wants...The one I had first experienced the wonder of at the downtown Apple Store just a few weeks ago while my roommate was being assisted by a hipster wearing a red shirt that says "Santa has elves. You have me." This was the phone said roommate purchased and has been glued to ever since. The one that could, when I ran into her room shouting, be held up to my TV and magically tell me the name of the song on the commercial I was watching and wondering about for days. Nevermind that I have no idea how to work it, don't need all the features, and can't afford the services, I wanted to pocket it and go along my merry way. Merry Christmas to me!

While standing in the cold and lightly falling snow, calling my best friend (who didn't answer) and then father for advice on what to do (yes, I actually did that) the phone rings. Once I figured out how to answer it, I heard the voice of a man who, according to Magic Phone, was named Arman. I had his phone. Where was I? He'll be there in 7 minutes. Was that OK? By now I was officially late to the appointment that is four inches from my office building. Figures. So I stand and wait for him to come looking for the girl in the grey coat with the curly hair. A black car pulls up and a young woman gets out. I have her phone. She thanks me genuinely which is nice and puts out her hand. I shake it and say, "You're welcome. I was just calling you again because I'm late to an appointment." I've forgotten to mention that I was trying to call and arrange an alternate time to give back the phone as this alternative was better than missing an appointment I'd already jammed into my holiday schedule. This involved figuring out how to make a call on the phone. Anyway, I say "Happy Holidays" she responds in kind and I turn to leave, satisfied that I've done my good samaritan duty.

So I walk away and a guy walking down the street next to me says, "That was the Victoria's Secret model, wasn't it?" Since I am female and to me Vicky's means 7 for $25 underwear and Heidi Klum I have no idea who he means. He responds that the woman whose phone I just saved was Adriana Lima, a really famous model. "Oh, really?" I say. Lesson learned today: If you're ever wondering whether the gorgeous woman you see on a Manhattan street is a supermodel, ask the guy walking down the street next to you not the girl whose idea of make up is lipgloss and nothing else.

Upon arriving home this evening I Google image her and there she is. It definitely was her. Only in New York...right?