The other night we were enjoying a lovely evening out at the Wreck Room, which is pretty much the bar closest to our house. This kind of sucks, since I'm used to years of strolling over to the Alibi whenever I felt like it (and more recently, to Sputnik which was even closer). But southern Bushwick has a dearth of boozing establishments (though no shortage of boozers, to be sure). Are there other bars in that area? I'll have to investigate more thoroughly soon.

Anyway, we were sitting outside smoking, when this small, older Latino guy walked by. I could see him out of the corner of my eye and knew he was gonna creep up on us, you can always tell when somebody has to make the decision to brace a fellow human, even the seasoned panhandlers.

"Happy new year, Papi," he said to me, extending a hand. I shook it and he didn't let it go. He made some more small talk and then said grimly, "I don't wanna have to rob nobody … could you help me get some Chinese food?" The guy was totally nonthreatening in a paternal sort of way. Of course, he already had me at "Papi." I gave him a dollar and he immediately said, "Chinese food … it's $2.50." So I gave him another buck. Somehow not giving him that last 50 cents allowed me to feel like I hadn't been taken (some complicated personal rationale on my part).

Now of course we're wringing our hands over whether crime is too high in Brooklyn, and whether or not we should flee to the suburbs. Oh, what has become of this city? Alas!