Let me tell you a little bit about the glory that is my lunch hour.
Its an entire 60 minutes outside, not in the frigid icebox that is my office, sunning myself like a turtle, with nothing to do but stuff my face and read a good book. With the new move to Rock Center, my food options have been multiplied by a bajillion. I don’t even mind the tourists that flood the sidewalks, you know why? Because I’m not at work. Today I spent a glorious hour outside with a footlong sub and my newest book, I Am Not Myself These Days.I try to take my lunch break as late as possible because its the high point of my day, and every hour left after that is pure torture.
Five Guys Burgers is about to open up next to me, and just a mere two blocks away is Dos Bros Pizza, home of the $1 slice. This excites me even more than usual because of a little incident with my volleyball team. One night we were having some team bonding (read: bar hopping) and some of my teammates started talking about Dos Bros and the awesome dollar slices, and how great they were after a night out. Fast forward a few weeks when I’m out with some of my friends in the area I KNOW my teammates were just discussing. And thank God for smart phones!! I kept telling my friends “No really, there’s dollar slices around here. I know it. I’ll find it.” I googled dos bros, dos bros nyc, dos bros manhattan, dos bros 10022 — NOTHING. After finally accepting defeat, we headed to Brother Jimmys. At the next game I told my teammates about my Dos Bros mishap. They more or less peed themselves — the real name is 2 Brothers, but everyone calls it dos bros. Thats like someone googling golden arches to find McDonalds. To this day I haven’t lived that down, and now I’m pretty sure that its my responsibility to at least see what good ol’ dos bros is about.
The moral of this story: I live for lunch.