Anonymous Lawyer

H&H Bagels certainly has some of the best bagels in Manhattan (they were even featured in Seinfeld). There is nothing like a fresh, hot H&H on a Saturday morning to help ease me into another long weekend working at my law firm.

The main bakery is in midtown (46th and 12th Ave.), with a satellite on the upper west side (80th & Broadway). Many hotels also get shipments of the bagels, and H&H ships worldwide. Enjoy NYC.
 

That is totally the life many of us live. I know a guy who was asked to fly interstate to save an account the day his wife was due to give birth. She was extremely ill. There were complications.

He flew interstate. His wife was fine. But he failed to save the account.

Imagine if the reverse had happened. He would never have forgiven himself. Then again, maybe he would.

theadvertisingagency.blogspot etc
 

At the risk of being contentious and sounding narrow-minded: East coast...ugh!...I don't know how people can live outside of California. Honestly.
 

H&H for bagels. Or Bagel Bob's in the Village.
 

I'd check NYTimes.com for good reviews of midtown restaurants. There's been so much turnover in the last few years, so my slightly-out-of-date knowledge probably won't help too much.

At any rate, it's NYC. You're almost guaranteed to find a nice restaurant in Midtown. Google, maybe.
 

what do you mean you can't understand how anyone could live outside california?

The GROUND SHAKES. Do you know what that means? The actual ground you walk on is moving and shaking. The only creatures that should be inhabiting the california region include small rodents and birds.
 

This is priceless. The New York hipsters practically drooling over themselves while replying to this post. Quibbling over whose mom-and-pop corner bakery in Soho whips up the best batch of bagels every morning. A store they no doubt patronize daily, reveling in its quaintness and congratulating themselves for having the willpower to pass up the evil Starbucks. Please, let's hear more.

In defense of California, allow me this rant. At school in Boston this past year, I met a girl who lived in LA and actually moved back to the east coast. Shocked and confused, I asked her why. "The weather," she said. "What?!" I thought, "that's our line!" Then she added, "I missed the seasons." I hope by "seasons" she meant the changing of the leaves. Because during the eight months of blustery bitterness that follow, the scowls on the faces of every Bostonian walking the street belie their supposed love of the seasons.
Another favorite response: "People in LA are too fake." See, I just don't know. Are people here fake, or are they just shallow? Because I'll give you the latter. I'll bet there are more people in PV who get more pleasure from the sound of the engine igniting in their E55 AMG than they do from an afternoon with their family. You want to talk about fake? Fake is pretending to love horrible weather for two weeks of red leaves. There's a cool sea breeze and a soft blanket of mist that descends upon Malibu every morning. It burns off by 11am, leaving sunshine and 75 degree weather. That's all the "season" I need.
 

For lunch, if you are in the area, I recommend Tabla, at 11 Madison Avenue (at 23rd Street). Pricey, but Anonymous Client can afford it.