I was all proud of myself for posting this classiness on Instagram, until my 11-year-old niece favorited it.
When I was ten, my dad joked with the owner of Katz’s Deli that when the coins he pushed across this counter finally wore through it, the man could sell the place. Not yet, Dad.
When you shoot outside, especially in New York, expect the seasoned crazies to squat and be loud until you bribe them to go away. Luckily a cop intervened with Fatso here before I broke my cell phone over his head.