Jan 25, 2010

There’s an oddity in the Burroughs of New York City never-before-seen by these eyes before arriving on the Eastern coast of the US. It’s a juxtaposition inciting smirks, gag-reflex, excitement, laughter and uncontrollable cravings. They are the Chinese/Mexican restaurants aligning streets from Brooklyn to the Bronx. The atmosphere of these establishments is reminiscent to adult video shops and opium dens – the act of eating here being a lewd one. The walls are always a pastel color, my favorite being blue. Sometimes there aren’t booths, chairs or tables to be seen. Other times there aren’t even cashiers to be recognized, only a bicycle implying that a deliveryman is in the vicinity. Most of the time you’ll see people meandering outside, waiting for a bus, a lover, a phone call, etc. In all likelihood, the joint you’re looking at is declaring its ability to make a “happy taco”, or a “crispy taco.” Today I found a “yummy taco”, but there wasn’t anyone around to tell me if it was true.