Since before planning the trip, Mandi always wanted to show me New York's Museum of Modern Art. It's one of her favorite places, understandably considering how it matches her obscure, artsy sensibilities. We took turns taking odd pictures with the art and generally being silly. Unfortunately Van Gogh's "Starry Night" was on tour, but we still saw tons of Warhol and Pollock. We rested in a dark-room exhibit showing an evocative, 40-minute slideshow featuring photographs about love and its progression over time, and briefly sat in the sun of the sculpture garden, which would have been beautiful to lounge around had the weather not been freezing.
That night, Brooke headed off to the movies, so Mandi and I decided to go to her favorite pizza place just down the street from the dorm, Patsy's. While we waited for food—I remember, I was starving, having eating nothing but sweets the entire day—I couldn't stop watching one of the employees, possibly the owner, who continually greeted guests and acted friendly. He would take the men's hand, kiss the women's cheek, laugh deeply at jokes—all things done in the manner I imagined a cliche Italian pizza-restaurant owner would use. 
It was great. Also, the pizza was incredible. Every slice had on them whole leaves of basil. Between the two of us, we finished an entire 8-slice pizza in close to 30 minutes flat.
It was great. Also, the pizza was incredible. Every slice had on them whole leaves of basil. Between the two of us, we finished an entire 8-slice pizza in close to 30 minutes flat.
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