#157, Upper East Side, NYC
Many years ago I lived in this neighborhood, now I only go there to part with loads of cash, be stuck with needles and find myself roaming the streets in a daze shortly thereafter, foaming at the mouth. No, this isn't the Lower East Side, it's the Upper East Side, and if you think that my subjecting myself to this altered state is in any way recreational, then clearly you haven't been to see my dentist.
My most recent trip to this curious neck of the woods was several weeks ago. If you've been following my grid, you'll see that I had a few numbers to get under my belt. So rather than focus on my very deep-seated dentist phobia, I intended to turn my journey to the Upper East Side a number-hunting expedition that would be so successful it would overshadow the dental agony that was the true purpose of my journey. I was not so easily hoodwinked.
The pain of the visit was alleviated somewhat by glancing from time to time at the Us Weekly with Robert Pattinson's highly distracting hair on the cover whilst I lay in the dentist's chair at a compromising angle, my mouth being poked and prodded with needles, drills, and an instrument of torture called, somewhat ominously, "the explorer." Of course, there was the added prospect of getting some good numbers to go along with my grinding headache, and on that count, I wasn't disappointed. The design of the door even has this cool molecular model feel to it, proving once more that science and art can connect. Just don't expect it not to hurt.