strange radiation: the pool of radiance archive

Adventures with an unreliable narrator.

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May 17 05: a ray extinguished

There is no shortage of pizza joints in New York City. Anybody who has been here can attest to that. But finding a good pizza joint—the sort of place you can hit on your lunch break when you don’t really feel like anything else; the sort of place you can rely on—is another matter entirely. It’s like finding yourself a good barber: once you find a place you like, a place that serves you a decent slice or two for not-too-much money, within reasonable trudging distance of the office, you stick with it. So my fellow New Yorkers will understand the magnitude of my personal tragedy today when I discovered that my default pizzeria had suddenly gone out of business.

Aw, crap.

I wandered around the immediate area for a while, sick at heart. It’s not as though I have slices for lunch more than one day a week, maybe twice in three weeks at most, but still. Don’t think I didn’t ache with the loss. Still, life must go on, and I was getting hungry, so I auditioned a replacement. It was not a success: flaccid, lukewarm slices, with a few lumps of carbonized whatever rattling around with them in the take-out box.

Can anybody recommend a decent place for slices in the vicinity of 47th and 6th? Right now I don’t think I have the strength to do this on my own.

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