Earlier tonight (2am) catching a cab home from work (company's dime), riding across the Williamsburg Bridge at 60 mph on the coolest evening I've felt in awhile and looking out at Brooklyn rising up to meet me, I almost leaned forward and asked the cabbie through the little hole cut in the plastic divider to swing around and take the bridge again, just to be reminded of the kind of breeze it's almost impossible to catch in New York City in the summer, the kind of breeze that pushes you back in your seat and whispers phenomenally bad erotic poetry in your ear.

I didn't. I didn't want to risk being disappointed the second time around.

To whoever softlinked Something's Always Wrong to this - fess up: I love that band.

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