1. Start with an NYC-stock broth (dingy colored, smells like garbage).
2. Heat to 97 degrees Fahrenheit, 100% humidity. You’ll know it’s hot enough when your thighs stick together.
3. Add a few thousand exhausted, bead-sweaty people who look generally dead behind the eyes 
4. Stir in some weirdos, maybe a lady who spits.
5. Add a dash of pit-stained, foul-mouthed construction workers.
6. When patience is about to run out, throw in a screaming baby.
7. Flavor with a very opinionated religious guy.
8. Strain out deodorant (strain out all pleasant smells, in fact. Replace with more garbage.)
9. Sprinkle with misery and impatience. 

The chips you eat while preparing the sandwich don’t count. Much like food consumed in airports.

At 16 Handles, the person before me in line takes the last of the Eurotart, which I had planned to mix with the Chocolate Brownie already in my cup.

Person: “Oops sorry!”
Me: “Aw that’s ok, it happens!”
Person: “Look at it this way– I probably did you a favor. Your cup is already pretty full!”
Me: (laughing) “I suppose you’re right! Good point!”

Jew crush of the week is THIS guy.

Trying to plan a last minute trip to Europe has made me starkly aware of the fact that I don’t actually know where Europe is.

I’m going to make this decision the way I make all big decisions which is to flip a coin and then do what the coin says, as long as the coin says the thing I want to do.