Our hotel is located just around the corner from one of New York’s finest bagel shops, and we thought that by nine the rush hour crowds should have dissipated sufficiently for us to find breakfast in relative peace. We could only wonder how busy they get as we stood chilling in the queue that snaked along the footpath for half a city block. “Chilling” here does not mean “staying calm”, it means “our core temperature is getting seriously low folks, move along please!”
We arrived at the front of the queue a millisecond less than an hour later, apparently much sooner than the average morning wait, and our breakfast bagel; cinnamon and raisin with walnut and raisin cream cheese filling, containing an entire week’s ration of at least three food groups was entirely worth the wait.
By mid afternoon, having burnt off just some of our breakfast while ambling aimlessly for kilometres through the streets and avenues of Mid-town and along the pathways of Central Park, the urge to “top up the tanks” became overwhelming, and coincided with us being exactly outside a Joint of the Burger variety. For the second time in one day, we managed to eat a month’s supply of rations while wondering if our surroundings were real, or on some sort of film set.
No comments
Post a Comment