The second time in this two-bit town, and I can't remember where on earth this bodega is.
• • •
Pat was probably getting annoyed about my fixation on finding this place.
This time around we were driving. The roads were even shittier than the ones found in my home town of Winnipeg. I thought the roads would be better.
Anyway, we rolled in to town a day before. I commandeered our trek as soon as we got through the tunnel. Murray's bagels was our first stop. A plain bagel—not toasted—with half-a-pound of cream cheese on it. If that was the only reason for the whole trip, I would argue that it was worth it!
Off to Third Rail Coffee in the Village.
We heard from Nik at this point. He was haggard from the night before. We had to kill some time, so off to the place where dreams—and debt—are made. An intricate setup of conveyor belts, and dumbwaiters filled the rafters of this two story monstrosity. All the camera, music, and audio equipment you could think of.
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