RIVERDALE - Mayor Zohran Mamdani was spotted Sunday morning at a small café on Alexander Avenue sitting across from what multiple witnesses describe as the ghost of former Mayor Fiorello La Guardia.
According to patrons, the mayor arrived around 8 a.m. with a small entourage of aides and security, who remained outside on the sidewalk. Mamdani entered alone, ordered a black coffee, and sat at a corner table near the window.
Then the chair across from him pulled itself out.
"Nobody sat down," said one patron, a retired teacher who was reading the paper nearby. "The chair just moved. Then suddenly there was an older man in it. Old suit. Big hat. Glowing blue. Grinning like he'd been waiting for an old friend."
The barista said a second coffee appeared on the counter that no one had ordered. She assumed it was a mistake. When she looked up, it was gone. It was on their table.
Witnesses say Mamdani looked startled for only a moment before composing himself. "He just kind of nodded," one patron said. "Like, okay. This is happening."
His aides outside apparently noticed something was off. One was seen pressing her face against the window. Another appeared to be speaking rapidly into a phone. None entered. "They kept looking at each other like, 'who is he talking to?'" said a man standing near the entrance. "But nobody went in. I think they were afraid to interrupt."
Several patrons began quietly taking photos. One widely shared image shows Mamdani leaning forward, listening intently, while the figure across from him gestured with both hands. Multiple patrons overheard portions of the conversation.
"The first thing the old man said was congratulations," one witness recalled. "He said he'd been watching and that the city chose well." Witnesses say La Guardia spoke about the difficulty of the job and the weight of governing a city that never sleeps. One woman overheard: "They're going to hate you now but maybe one day they'll name an airport after you." Mamdani reportedly laughed.
Another patron said La Guardia seemed particularly animated about public transit and affordable housing, at one point tapping the table firmly enough to rattle the cups in the entire joint. "He kept saying 'the working people, the working people.' Over and over."
The posts spread quickly on social media. Within hours, the hashtag #CoffeeWithFiorello started trending.
"Zohran sitting there listening to a dead mayor like it's completely normal is exactly why I voted for him," one user wrote.
"Even our dead care more about this city than half of the living in Albany," another posted.
Several commenters noted how gracious the mayor appeared throughout, never interrupting, nodding often. One user wrote: "Man got elected a month ago and already has mentors from the afterlife. That's range."
The mayor's office did not respond to a request for comment. A spokesperson said only that the mayor "had a productive morning."
Witnesses say the conversation lasted about an hour. Toward the end, La Guardia stood, adjusted his hat, and said something quietly that made the mayor smile. Then he turned toward the door and vanished.
One aide reportedly rushed inside immediately after. "She looked at the mayor, looked at the empty chair, looked at the coffee, and just said 'sir?'" a patron recalled. "And the mayor just said, 'We're good. Let's go.'"
It's been a hard stretch for New Yorkers. The news has been relentless—costs rising, fascism rising, tempers short, the feeling that things are sliding in a direction no one wants. But the handful of people in that café on Sunday morning walked out a little different than when they walked in. Smiling. Talking to strangers. Telling anyone who'd listen what they'd just seen and how their spirits were lifted.