*squeal* “I’m on Bleecker” *squeal* “I’m on Bleecker”

(Note: This post is best read while quietly humming Simon & Garfunkel's "Bleecker Street." If a certain someone is reading this during client counseling, you'd better just just keep the music in your head.)

Friday night, Wife and I took a walk around the neighborhood to find some dinner. After taking a long stroll through Little Italy, we stopped at a little Turkish spot near our apartment where I could enjoy a delicious falafel sandwich and Wife could eat the most incredible lamb “doner” pita imaginable. For those of who know Wife, how incredible is this: Wife’s one demand for dinner was, “I want meat.” As we ate, she insisted her slices of roasted lamb was “the best meal she has eaten in New York.” My favorite part: our huge falafel and lamb dinner cost us a grand total of seven dollars.

After dinner, we walked back to our apartment, when we passed a young woman standing on the sidewalk with a couple guys. As we walked by them, the woman squealed as she kept repeating, “I can’t believe I’m on Bleecker! We’re standing on Bleecker!” Wife and I looked at each other and smiled, realizing that this is an experience we will never forget. It’s one thing to visit New York City for a vacation, but it is another to call Greenwich Village home. The people, the landmarks, the history, the culture, the street vendors, the food—there really is something special about this city.