It's time. You scrape together the change you've picked up recently and go searching for a breakfast place. But most are crowded, and your nerves are on edge. You find an obscure little nook called Byzance, owned by a plump and eccentric Turkish woman with rings on every finger. The shop looks seedy and chintzy, like she stole the decor from an Arabian Nights-themed gogo club, but the baklava is peerless. Since you actually have a choice in the matter now, you start the day off drinking—
Coffee.
Tea.
Cocoa.
Orange juice.
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