Apparently all the kitchens in New York City have the exact same cabinets in them: blond wood, no handles or hardware, about the same size and shape. I know this because I saw them in the 2nd floor kitchen of the building across the street, as the guys beneath the cabinets fished beers from the fridge and passed them around.
In the midst of my voyeuristic enjoyment of their little scene, a dreadful thought struck me: had people from the other side of the street looked up and seen me in my living room from their side of the street?
I resolved to go across the street and see what I could see from the sidewalk, but I forgot.
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