i must have walked by this jamaican eatery on fourth avenue a hundred times.

'i should try their roti and jerk chicken sometime,' i think, every single time.

yesterday, i walked by the place on my way to the bus stop to discover it's become a yuppie juice bar.

i highly doubt that some massive 'i should start being more impulsive and live for the moment' epiphany will come of this, but i am quite, quite sorry that i missed out on the opportunity.

let's try to temper that with some sour grapes, shall we? 'well, if they went under, their food couldn't have been that good...'