The final countdown

I was fine for most of Monday, my first day not temping at the law firm. I found a mechanic not too far away in Long Island City and, although I kept driving past it, I got there okay. I left the car there and went to a nearby diner with obscenely oversized gyros (pronounced “jye-rose”). The mechanic called soon thereafter and asked if I wanted to cut corners. I told him no, do everything and do it right.

Sí se puede

In an odd twist, one could immediately recognize the faces of two kinds of New Yorkers on Wednesday morning — homosexuals and registered Republicans — as the ones not beaming on their way to work.