Last weekend I fell in love with New York City. I'd been to the city a few times before and had always had a great time. My previous trips had been brief with specific events planned: Broadway shows, a tour of Ellis Island, a visit to the New York Historical Society. This weekend was for a wedding, but on Sunday I found myself with a few hours with nothing planned. After dropping off my duffel bag at the hotel and praying I could check in with enough time to primp before the wedding started I began carefully finding my way around the neighborhood.
Our hotel was in Chinatown near Little Italy (on Broome Street and Bowery). I set out in search of breakfast and coffee, hoping I could find somewhere to sit and read for the three hours I had before I could actually check into my room. At first I was disoriented, seeming to find only small markets and stores that sold lighting equipment. I was tempted to sit down and eat cannoli at the first Italian café I found. I kept going, reached Lafayette Street and saw this:
