The first time I visited New York City doesn't really count. I was help hostage by Nepalese monks somewhere in Brooklyn.
As hostage-takers go, they were okay. I got four square meals a day and my own room. But I wasn't able to go anywhere on my own. If I wanted to go for a walk someone went with me. If I wanted to see the city, a monk took me to Madame Tousseau's as if that was all there was to be seen.
Monks are supposed to be peaceful, but their torture was particularly sinister. Hour ...
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