New York
What Life Is Like for Sean Combs, Inmate 37452-054
Good morning. It’s Tuesday. Today we’ll find out about the latest court appearance by the music mogul Sean Combs, who is known as Puff Daddy and Diddy — and about conditions in the jail unit where he has lived for seven months. We’ll also get details on why a relatively small number of restaurants have applied for permits for outdoor dining structures under new city regulations.
On Monday, Sean Combs, the music mogul known as Puffy Daddy or Diddy, was in court — again.
He pleaded not guilty — again.
Then he was taken back to the Metropolitan Detention Center in Brooklyn, where he is Inmate 37452-054.
He has been a resident there despite his lawyers’ arguments that he should be free until his trial begins. Several hearings were devoted to arguments over whether he was too much of a threat to the community and too likely to orchestrate witness tampering to be released on bail. Three judges decided that he was, so Combs has remained at the long-troubled jail.
The hearing on Monday, in Federal District Court for the Southern District of New York, was the latest since his arrest on racketeering and sex trafficking charges last year. The government had filed a document called a superseding indictment, which added a second major sex-trafficking charge to the allegations.
Combs, wearing a tan prison shirt and slacks, walked into court smiling. His once-jet-black hair was whitish gray. So was his beard.
Judge Arun Subramanian asked if Combs had seen the latest version of the indictment and understood the charges. Combs said he had and, as before, pleaded not guilty. It was the same plea he had entered at his arraignment after the original indictment last year.
Combs’s lawyers and the prosecutors sparred over whether there were emails from a woman identified only as Victim 4 that should be turned over to the defense and whether additional time was needed to go through them. When Combs’s lawyers indicated that they might ask for a two-week adjournment, Subramanian gave them 48 hours to submit a request, saying, “We are a freight train moving towards trial.” Jury selection is scheduled to begin on April 28.
The government has described Combs in court papers as the boss of a violent criminal conspiracy that committed kidnapping, arson and drug crimes while enabling Combs’s sexual abuse of women.
Combs’s lawyers have countered that the charges actually center on consensual sex with long-term girlfriends. The defense has acknowledged that Combs has had “complicated relationships” with significant others, as well as with alcohol and drugs, but has argued that those troubles do not “make him a racketeer, or a sex trafficker.”
For Combs, jailhouse life is different from the enormous mansions with personal chefs that he once enjoyed. My colleague Julia Jacobs writes that he has been staying in an area of the jail known as 4 North, a fourth-floor dormitory-style unit where roughly 20 men are housed. It has often held high-profile inmates. Sam Bankman-Fried, the cryptocurrency entrepreneur who is appealing his fraud conviction, was a neighbor on 4 North until recently. Luigi Mangione, who shares a lawyer with Combs, is awaiting trial from the same jail, but is not being held in 4 North.
The conditions there are not as restrictive as in a separate unit where inmates typically spend 23 hours a day in their cells. Detainees on 4 North are generally free to move around the unit. It has televisions, a microwave and a room where inmates have in the past worked out on mats with exercise balls, said Gene Borrello, a former inmate who said he was placed on 4 North because he had helped the government convict members of the Mafia.
Detainees in 4 North do not have access to the internet, but they could watch movies and listen to music on tablets purchased in the commissary, he said.
Combs meets with members of his legal team frequently, sometimes in a conference room off the common area of 4 North. He was provided a laptop without Wi-Fi — at his lawyers’ urging — to work through the mountain of evidence that prosecutors have turned over before trial. He can use the laptop between 8 a.m. and 3:30 p.m. each day in the unit’s visiting room or in a room reserved for inmates to take video calls.
Telephone calls are limited to 15 minutes each. But prosecutors have said that Combs bought the use of other inmates’ phone privileges. On some of those calls, the government said, Combs strategized about using public statements to affect the potential jury pool’s perception of him. They also said he had tried to contact potential witnesses through three-way calling, which allows him to reach people outside his approved contact list. The defense says Combs’s communications have not been illicit.
Prosecutors have also said that Combs orchestrated a video, later posted to his Instagram account, that showed his seven children wishing him a happy birthday, with Combs on speakerphone. After it was posted, prosecutors said, Combs — long known for his attention to marketing — monitored the analytics from jail.
Weather
Expect a mostly cloudy morning with a chance of rain and thunderstorms in the afternoon and eventually some sun. The temperature will reach into the mid-60s. In the evening, there will be a chance of rain or a thunderstorm and a dip into temperature to around 43.
ALTERNATE-SIDE PARKING
In effect until Thursday (Holy Thursday).
The latest Metro news
Why outdoor dining is faltering
Whatever happened to outdoor dining? Only a small portion of the city’s restaurants have applied for permits for dining structures under new regulations.
Restaurant owners say the process is complicated and expensive.
“It was kind of presented as a lifeline, and then you get into it and you’re like, ‘Wow, I think I’ve been duped,’” said Megan Rickerson, the owner of the Someday Bar in the Boerum Hill neighborhood of Brooklyn. “If you had known upfront what it would entail, would you have done it? Because I can tell you my answer would’ve been no.”
The city told restaurateurs who wanted to replace ad hoc dining setups with modular structures to reapply for permits by August last year.
But only about 3,400 have done so, according to the city’s Department of Transportation. By April 8, only 32 had received full approval for a roadway structure. The department has granted conditional approval for 623 roadway structures and about 1,850 sidewalk cafes, allowing businesses to construct their setups while their applications are processed.
My colleague Olivia Bensimon writes that most of the establishments with roadway permits are concentrated in wealthier areas. At the height of the pandemic-era outdoor dining program, authorized on an emergency basis to keep restaurants afloat, there were at least 12,500 “streeteries,” and they were equitably distributed citywide, according to data from the comptroller’s office.
METROPOLITAN diary
Summer clearance
Dear Diary:
This occurred years ago, when I was a newly married New York City public-school teacher furnishing the new apartment my husband and I had moved into.
One late-August afternoon, I met two friends for lunch at a restaurant on the Upper East Side. Afterward, I walked to Bloomingdale’s to see if they had any items I could use in the apartment.
As I entered the store, I saw a sign hanging above the lower level: “Big Summer Clearance Sale.”
I went downstairs. To my amazement and delight, I saw tables overflowing with kitchen items like dishes and small electrical appliances; bathroom towels; and blankets, comforters, sheets and pillows for the bedroom. Everything I needed.
A young saleswoman offered to help me. I soon realized that I could not carry all of my purchases home on the subway.
The saleswoman said that Bloomingdale’s would deliver everything to my home at no charge and within a week.
I gave her my address: 495 East 55th Street.
She looked overjoyed.
“Sutton Place?” she asked.
I smiled.
“No,” I said. “Brooklyn.”
Her smile vanished. But my purchases were delivered within a week, as promised.
— Evelyn Oberstein
Illustrated by Agnes Lee. Send submissions here and read more Metropolitan Diary here.
New York
Vote For the Best Metropolitan Diary Entry of 2025
Every week since 1976, Metropolitan Diary has published stories by, and for, New Yorkers of all ages and eras (no matter where they live now): anecdotes and memories, quirky encounters and overheard snippets that reveal the city’s spirit and heart.
For the past four years, we’ve asked for your help picking the best Diary entry of the year. Now we’re asking again.
We’ve narrowed the field to the five finalists here. Read them and vote for your favorite. The author of the item that gets the most votes will receive a print of the illustration that accompanied it, signed by the artist, Agnes Lee.
The voting closes at 11:59 p.m. on Sunday, Dec. 21. You can change your vote as many times as you’d like until then, but you may only pick one. Choose wisely.
Click “VOTE” to choose your favorite Metropolitan Diary entry of 2025, and come back on Sunday, Dec. 28, to see which one our readers picked as their favorite.
Click “VOTE” to choose your favorite Metropolitan Diary entry of 2025, and come back on Sunday, Dec. 28, to see which one our readers picked as their favorite.
Two Stops
Dear Diary:
It was a drizzly June night in 2001. I was a young magazine editor and had just enjoyed what I thought was a very blissful second date — dinner, drinks, fabulous conversation — with our technology consultant at a restaurant in Manhattan.
I lived in Williamsburg at the time, and my date lived near Murray Hill, so we grabbed a cab and headed south on Second Avenue.
“Just let me out here,” my date said to the cabby at the corner of 25th Street.
We said our goodbyes, quick and shy, knowing that we would see each other at work the next day. I was giddy and probably grinning with happiness and hope.
“Oh boy,” the cabby said, shaking his head as we drove toward Brooklyn. “Very bad.”
“What do you mean?” I asked in horror.
“He doesn’t want you to know exactly where he lives,” the cabby said. “Not a good sign.”
I spent the rest of the cab ride in shock, revisiting every moment of the date.
Happily, it turned out that my instinct about it being a great date was right, and the cabby was wrong. Twenty-four years later, my date that night is my husband, and I know that if your stop is first, it’s polite to get out so the cab can continue in a straight line to the next stop.
Ferry Farewell
Dear Diary:
On a February afternoon, I met my cousins at the Staten Island Ferry Terminal. Their spouses and several of our very-grown children were there too. I brought Prosecco, a candle, a small speaker to play music, photos and a poem.
We were there to recreate the wedding cruise of my mother, Monica, and my stepfather, Peter. They had gotten married at City Hall in August 1984. She was 61, and he, 71. It was her first marriage, and his fourth.
I was my mother’s witness that day. It was a late-in-life love story, and they were very happy. Peter died in 1996, at 82. My mother died last year. She was 100.
Peter’s ashes had waited a long time, but finally they were mingled with Monica’s. The two of them would ride the ferry a last time and then swirl together in the harbor forever. Cue the candles, bubbly, bagpipes and poems.
Two ferry workers approached us. We knew we were in trouble: Open containers and open flames were not allowed on the ferry.
My cousin’s husband, whispering, told the workers what we were doing and said we would be finished soon.
They walked off, and then returned. They said they had spoken to the captain, and they ushered us to the stern for some privacy. As the cup of ashes flew into the water, the ferry horn sounded two long blasts.
Unacceptable
Dear Diary:
I went to a new bagel store in Brooklyn Heights with my son.
When it was my turn to order, I asked for a cinnamon raisin bagel with whitefish salad and a slice of red onion.
The man behind the counter looked up at me.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t do that.”
Teresa
Dear Diary:
It was February 2013. With a foot of snow expected, I left work early and drove from New Jersey warily as my wipers squeaked and snow and ice stuck to my windows.
I drove east on the Cross Bronx Expressway, which was tied up worse than usual. Trucks groaned on either side of my rattling Toyota. My fingers were cold. My toes were colder. Got to get home before it really comes down, I thought to myself.
By the time I got home to my little red bungalow a stone’s throw from the Throgs Neck Bridge, the snow was already up to my ankles.
Inside, I took off my gloves, hat, scarf, coat, sweater, pants and snow boots. The bed, still unmade, was inviting me. But first, I checked my messages.
There was one from Teresa, the 92-year-old widow on the corner.
“Call me,” she said, sounding desperate.
I looked toward the warm bed, but … Teresa. There was a storm outside, and she was alone.
On went the pants, the sweater, the coat, the scarf, the boots and the gloves, and then I went out the door.
The snow was six inches deep on the sidewalks, so I tottered on tire tracks in the middle of the street. The wind stung my face. When I got to the end of the block, I pounded on her door.
“Teresa!” I called. No answer. “Teresa!” I called again. I heard the TV blaring. Was she sprawled on the floor?
I went next door and called for Kathy.
“Teresa can’t answer the door,” I said. “Probably fell.”
Kathy had a key. In the corner of her neat living room, Teresa, in pink sweatpants and sweaters, was sitting curled in her armchair, head bent down and The Daily News in her lap.
I snapped off the TV.
Startled, she looked up.
“Kathy! Neal!” she said. “What’s a five-letter word for cabbage?”
Nice Place
Dear Diary:
When I lived in Park Slope over 20 years ago, I once had to call an ambulance because of a sudden, violent case of food poisoning.
Two paramedics, a man and a woman, entered our third-floor walk-up with a portable chair. Strapping me in, the male medic quickly inserted an IV line into my arm.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his partner circling around and admiring the apartment.
“Nice place you’ve got here.” she said. “Do you own it?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, all but unconscious.
Once I was in the ambulance, she returned to her line of inquiry.
“Do you mind me asking how much you paid for your apartment?”
“$155,000,” I croaked.
“Wow! You must have bought during the recession.”
“Yeah” I said.
They dropped me off at Methodist Hospital, where I was tended to by a nurse as I struggled to stay lucid.
At some point, the same medic poked her head into the room with one last question:
“You wouldn’t be wanting to sell any time soon, would you?”
Illustrations by Agnes Lee.
New York
They Witness Deaths on the Tracks and Then Struggle to Get Help
‘Part of the job’
Edwin Guity was at the controls of a southbound D train last December, rolling through the Bronx, when suddenly someone was on the tracks in front of him.
He jammed on the emergency brake, but it was too late. The man had gone under the wheels.
Stumbling over words, Mr. Guity radioed the dispatcher and then did what the rules require of every train operator involved in such an incident. He got out of the cab and went looking for the person he had struck.
“I didn’t want to do it,” Mr. Guity said later. “But this is a part of the job.”
He found the man pinned beneath the third car. Paramedics pulled him out, but the man died at the hospital. After that, Mr. Guity wrestled with what to do next.
A 32-year-old who had once lived in a family shelter with his parents, he viewed the job as paying well and offering a rare chance at upward mobility. It also helped cover the costs of his family’s groceries and rent in the three-bedroom apartment they shared in Brooklyn.
But striking the man with the train had shaken him more than perhaps any other experience in his life, and the idea of returning to work left him feeling paralyzed.
Edwin Guity was prescribed exposure therapy after his train struck a man on the tracks.
Hundreds of train operators have found themselves in Mr. Guity’s position over the years.
And for just as long, there has been a path through the state workers’ compensation program to receiving substantive treatment to help them cope. But New York’s train operators say that their employer, the Metropolitan Transportation Authority, has done too little to make them aware of that option.
After Mr. Guity’s incident, no official told him of that type of assistance, he said. Instead, they gave him the option of going back to work right away.
But Mr. Guity was lucky. He had a friend who had been through the same experience and who coached him on getting help — first through a six-week program and then, with the assistance of a lawyer, through an experienced specialist.
The specialist prescribed a six-month exposure therapy program to gradually reintroduce Mr. Guity to the subway.
His first day back at the controls of a passenger train was on Thanksgiving. Once again, he was driving on the D line — the same route he had been traveling on the day of the fatal accident.
M.T.A. representatives insisted that New York train operators involved in strikes are made aware of all options for getting treatment, but they declined to answer specific questions about how the agency ensures that drivers get the help they need.
In an interview, the president of the M.T.A. division that runs the subway, Demetrius Crichlow, said all train operators are fully briefed on the resources available to them during their job orientation.
“I really have faith in our process,” Mr. Crichlow said.
Still, other transit systems — all of which are smaller than New York’s — appear to do a better job of ensuring that operators like Mr. Guity take advantage of the services available to them, according to records and interviews.
A Times analysis shows that the incidents were on the rise in New York City’s system even as they were falling in all other American transit systems.
An Uptick in Subway Strikes
San Francisco’s system provides 24-hour access to licensed therapists through a third-party provider.
Los Angeles proactively reaches out to its operators on a regular basis to remind them of workers’ compensation options and other resources.
The Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority has made it a goal to increase engagement with its employee assistance program.
The M.T.A. says it offers some version of most of these services.
But in interviews with more than two dozen subway operators who have been involved in train strikes, only one said he was aware of all those resources, and state records suggest most drivers of trains that strike people are not taking full advantage of them.
“It’s the M.T.A.’s responsibility to assist the employee both mentally and physically after these horrific events occur,” the president of the union that represents New York City transit workers, John V. Chiarello, said in a statement, “but it is a constant struggle trying to get the M.T.A. to do the right thing.”
New York
Video: Protesters Arrested After Trying to Block a Possible ICE Raid
new video loaded: Protesters Arrested After Trying to Block a Possible ICE Raid
transcript
transcript
Protesters Arrested After Trying to Block a Possible ICE Raid
Nearly 200 protesters tried to block federal agents from leaving a parking garage in Lower Manhattan on Saturday. The confrontation appeared to prevent a possible ICE raid nearby, and led to violent clashes between the police and protesters.
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[chanting] “ICE out of New York.”
By Jorge Mitssunaga
November 30, 2025
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