There's something about buying a pickle at the bodega that makes me feel uber New York-y. I mean it's not like offhandedly saying I'm gonna go grab some deli, but still.
Also, I'm slightly embarrassed at how thrilled I was that he let me choose which pickle I wanted. I felt like I was picking out my goddam lobster for dinner. Or a boy picking out his first puppy.
1 comment:
Chile tonight?
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