On an unseasonably warm day in October, a photographer and a reporter on a quest for couples to feature in The New York Times traversed almost the entire length of Manhattan, crossing through Central Park, stopping at Comic Con and wandering the High Line.

A few mishaps were inevitable.

Upon spotting one couple who were power walking around the Central Park reservoir, they stopped to ask: “Are you a couple?”

“I’m his mother!” the woman said. “I’m 80.” (Well, she hardly looked it.)

A few successes followed. Faith in journalistic powers of observation reaffirmed. And then, another stumble.

A pair of women lounged on a picnic blanket, bodies and hair casually intertwined. A few feet away, a man reclined in the grass, his gaze on them. A triad?