God Bless Deli on Manhattan Avenue.
I’ve only been here once in my life and a well-aged man with long gray hair put his hand over my jugular and told me how easy he could instantly kill me.
He noticed that I was coming from a rare workout at the Y and he told me that he could train me to be a warrior, while keeping his hand on my throat. I never actually said a word to him and never returned. It was one of my more fucked up Greenpoint moment over the past decade. In my head, it’s now pretty funny. I think his neck was all inked, he scared the shit out of me and I froze and disappeared.