So, I'm sitting in the hotel, eating left over Chinese food from this afternoon and just waiting for the hotel staff to yell at me for getting soy sauce on the table. It's not nearly as cold or windy as I thought it would be. But the tax prices are even higher than I thought. The cookies on the front desk aren't warm at all and thoroughly disappointed me, but so it goes. Jerry Lewis is watching me as he peers down from the walls, his eyes lost in dark shadows and a cigarette in his hand. I take a pen from the desk drawer and will most likely forget about it for a few more days. The city sparkles with excitement and the pigeons even have a law just for them. I can feel the magic in the air with each step on the gritty sidewalk and with each brush of cold air against my flushed cheeks.

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