Here I am, Saturday, in the Essex Market.
So this joint is really small, it has about 8 tables (each table seats 2 people), plus 3 seats on the bar.
It's 9:45, they opened 15 minutes ago, the place is packed (packed, HA! If I bring my brothers and sister here, it's packed) and there is a wait already. The line is ten people deep.
By the way, my room is bigger than this place.
The store is in the very end of the market, and in the last picture I sent, you can see a cheese store on the left. It smells. And half the cheese look fuzzy. The other half, green.
I'm still in line. Been waiting for about ten minutes.
I looked at their menu and decided to have the Junior. I wanted to order my usual breakfast of two eggs, bacon, potatoes and fries, but I can't seem to find it in the menu (can you?). Being scared to be yelled at, I decided to pick from their menu instead.
The menu is really colorful. I wanted to steal one but after sizing up the server, I figured he can take me if things go bad.
I was able to cut the line and sit on the bar. I noticed that mostly sitting on the tables are tourists. All NYers are eating by themselves. You tell the tourists apart from the locals by the look on their faces - all the tourists are smiling.
Food looks good. I had mac n cheese (it's magically delicious!).
I'll get back at you, I'm eating...
Burp. That was good.
I sat next to some sort of a movie-maker. I'm gonna guess she comes here often because everyone was talking to her. Talking about her father, who sounds like he's a director, also about editing and writing a movie she's working on.
At one point, a guy in a pink shirt sat down and waited for a while then decided to leave, and he looked pissed and said under his breathe "service here sucks". Apparently that was a mistake, my server ran out of the kitchen and yelled back: "You don't wait for service - you ASK for service. This is how you do it 'Here's five bucks, blow me'." You think that's funny, it's better if you hear it like I did, his words echoed in the market. He then added to everyone in the diner that if you want to be taken seriously, don't wear pink. And as if on cue, a woman in a pink shirt walked in.
There you go, as promised, I delivered and ate in Shopsin's. What's my next assignment?