Unsolved Mysteries

Well I have at least started to get to the bottom of one of New York City's most perplexing mysteries. When I was dropping off my laundry at the inimitable M&N Cleaners this morning, I paused in my idle chit-chat to ask the proprietress a question that had been weighing on me for some time.

"How do you fold the clothes so tiny?" I inquired. "There has to be some special machine, right?"

"No. Three girls downstairs do it," the owner replied.

"By hand?" I was incredulous.

"Yes."

Now, this conversation didn't come close to answering my question as thoroughly as I would have liked. Are there special folding forms that the forementioned three girls use to guide their folding? Could I attend a seminar or take a course that would give me the same mad folding skills? How come these folding tricks haven't wended their way a mere two hundred miles down the East Coast to DC? However, it's a start.

Since my time in New York is almost at the half-way point, my hope for my remaining months here is to answer other NYC-specific conundrums (conundra?) that I have encountered during the first three months. Some of the most weighty issues are as follows:

1.) Cooking gyros and chicken in tiny, movable street carts cannot be sanitary. That said, gyro over rice with a side salad, white sauce, and hot sauce is basically the most delicious lunch imaginable. This lunch costs only $5 (which includes a drink and a free falafel ball!), and it yields enough leftovers for a generous dinner. So the concern is: how often can I eat this lunch and not render permanent damage to my digestive tract?

2.) Why, in the past three months, have I not yet been to the Heathers-themed bar in the East Village, the restaurant that specializes solely in macaroni and cheese, or Little Branch, my favorite pseudo-speakeasy?

3.) Faith and I burst into a liquor store last Saturday night giggling like sixteen-year-olds and very carefully picked out four mini-bottles of Stoli Vanila while discussing our plans to sneak said bottles into a screening of He's Just Not That Into You. So why weren't we carded? As Faith pointed out afterwards, these were prime carding conditions. Is my excellent face cream not working?

I will treat anyone with acceptable theories regarding any or all of of the above inquiries to a drink at the Heathers bar. And then best that person in croquet and hog the red hair bow.