leaving the city that never sleeps
This morning, spilling into the afternoon, was like a Simon and Garfunkel song; I sat on a train, on this rainy day, and watched as New York City slid away from me. I reentered the outlying cities, looking out over sleepy little cities and towns, traveling over waterways on little bridges made to rock our train back and forth, lulling me to sleep. Everything about leaving the City was unlike how I’d entered it. This morning we woke up early so we could go have a breakfast in the West Village (Manhattan) where my cousin works. It was one of those wonderful successes; trying out a restaurant that my cousin passes every day en route to work, one which she had often wondered about. The restaurant is Grey Dog and a better breakfast place in town I can’t imagine I’d find. Everything about the restaurant was great, from the décor (random pictures and signs, snowboards—many things featuring dogs); to the tables themselves, which had hand painted maps of various areas around the U.S. on them...