The Shows Girl

She had to work late last night and didn’t get to bed until after 2 a.m. So it’s coffee that Joanna Psoroyannis goes in search of. That, she hopes, will open her doe-like mocha eyes. Model tall, she’s a Greek goddess cloaked in black from the top of her turtleneck to the toes of her knee-high leather boots. She takes up coffee cup and settles into the sofa that faces her flat-screen TV, wrapping her lithe, long legs under her with the ease of a ballerina. Her bookshelves hold ragged paperback copies of Anne Rice’s vampire …

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The Good Guy

The apartment is filled with bikes and Buddhas, avant-garde art and animals. Finster the French bulldog is sitting on the beige rug, the one that matches his fur, guarding the cats Raya and Zophee. The sweet scent of votives mixes with the acrid smell of Billy Bruckner‘s cigarette smoke. Coffee, as fresh as the morning, is brewing. Billy, a cherub with big blue eyes and tattoos who liberally sprinkles his sentences with “dear,” is sitting on the sofa. He doesn’t like to think about the past, but since he’s asked, he politely complies like a schoolboy in …

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The Cosmopolitan Cafe Owners

Sometimes good things happen on bad days; in this case, it was one of those things that almost didn’t happen, but when it did, it made everything better. It was a year after the new century trumpeted its grand entrance when Guillermo Lucerofabbi and Canalp Caner were riding on the subway from Astoria toward Manhattan. They were strangers on the train. And to America. Guillermo, who is known as Willie, was a new arrival from Argentina, and Canalp, who goes by John, had just come from Turkey. Photo by Nancy A. Ruhling Willie, the host at Mundo. There was …

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