And the sole bar in the area run by the daddy of my good buddy, Johnny, was gutted out thoroughly before a Mickey D's took its place. Alas, it's sitting empty now, becoming another victim of urban renewal.
I walked along the streets of my childhood like taking a sightseeing tour. Those rows of two-story houses, where I rang doorbells as a trick-or-treater, had transformed into four-story buildings infested with sterile doctor's offices. That neighborhood candy store run by a feisty, petite Mabel became a bodega manned by hombres and amigos selling Hispanic-themed goods.
And the sole bar in the area run by the daddy of my good buddy, Johnny, was gutted out thoroughly before a Mickey D's took its place. Alas, it's sitting empty now, becoming another victim of urban renewal. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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