brunswickian

I recently paid for a tune-up at another bike shop. Two days later, I discovered my bike had a flat front tire. I’d heard some negative comments about this other bike shop, so I figured maybe they’d performed a lousy tune-up.

I headed to the Web and found Frank’s Bike Shop. Of all the bike shops in New York City, it seemed to be the only one that received consistently positive reviews.

It’s true that the workers there are a little gruff at first—I think they’re true New Yorkers in that sense. But once I got past that and told them my sob story, they were able to fix my flat right away.

The place is a little out of the way. It was nearly a one-mile walk from the nearest train station (remember, I had a flat tire). But it was worth it for the quality of the service. I also appreciated the fact that the clientele was diverse. The store has a real, take-no-bullshit Lower East Side vibe. It made it less intimidating for me to be there. I will definitely go there for any future bike repairs.

I will forever associate this restaurant with my 10-day stint serving on a grand jury. I must have gone there for lunch at least five of those days because the Brooklyn courthouse is located just down the street. And the lunch specials I had were decent, though a little heavy on the sauce. In the end, I ODed on all that mock-meat—I don’t plan on going back anytime soon.

I did a photo essay on Green-Wood Cemetery for a class I took. The place was absolutely beautiful. I still remember wandering around in solitude one fall afternoon—the leaves just falling, the sun low in the sky and bright, casting long shadows of gravestones. Reading the inscriptions and being touched when I happened on the graves of firefighters who’d died on 9/11.

Wooden rollercoasters are the best.