I get teary during the first bite of a great slice the same way I well up over Bambi’s mother getting shot in the movie. I learned young, that if I made believe a girl was a delicious cheese bubbly slice I paid greater attention to her. Girls know that, too. Not that you’re thinking they’re a pizza, no, that you’re listening.
Last night, I stopped in a pizza place on
Washington Square Park's fountain was happening last night, with a sweet evening breeze.