BOWLING. That's what the big illuminated sign screams in red-apple letters that look as though they should be shining on a Times Square marquee.

Anastasia Tsantes stands on her feet all day. She's a waitress who's used to pulling 12- and 13-hour shifts.

With the gracefulness of the dancer she once was, Malini "Mala" Ekanayake primly sits on the park bench, puts her feet together in perfect alignment and closes her big, brown eyes.

Orlando Anthony Pavich wasn't expecting morning to come so soon. He's hasn't shaved yet or put on a shirt. Zoe, his 2-year-old dachshund, is scurrying around the living room, jumping on the couches.

I can't tell you how many times it's happened to me. I stand there, in the rain, or in the snow, or on a perfectly beautiful spring day and I hail a lit cab, and it just drives right on by me.

It's 4:45 a.m. as I begin to type. I'm sitting in my Brooklyn, USA apartment. It's unofficially the coolest city on the planet. It's officially my home, and refuge, for the last 13 years. And I'm feeling quite reflective at the start of a new season.

Luisa Radeschi's been carrying the photo around for as long as she can remember. She just turned 94, so it's safe to say that it's been going on 70 or 80 years.

Walter "Wally" Boot finds himself fine-tuning a Steinway, and it's all because of a blue suit he needed a half century ago.

With the success of the latest Fashion's Night Out, we're now firmly into the fall shopping season. Those of us who work in retail know that this is the prime time for new stores to open for the holidays, and we have a terrific group this year!

In the living room, past the pair of wire cages that confine Melanie, Peaches and Shadow, there's a small black table that holds a toy car, a child-size football, a tablet engraved "Georgie" and a large color photo of a handsome man.

If you have had the good fortune of not only getting a scrumptious cupcake, but also having a coffee at Crumbs, you would have experienced close to the best coffee on the planet... in my humble opinion.

A coffee cup. And a trumpet. Josh Deutsch carries them out to his second-floor balcony. He didn't intend to bring them both; it was a spur-of-the-moment decision.

This past Saturday morning, I willingly went into Times Square. Why do I use the word "willingly"? Because, to be honest, I do my best to avoid Times Square if at all possible.

The drapes are blocking the sun, but the darkness doesn't dim Charlene Lite's optimism. Yes, she's had good times and bad times just like the rest of us, but she's made it her mantra to see the bright side of everything.

"I've got a lot of stuff cooking." As Mark Rinaldi says this, he places a plate of pão de queijo on the rustic wooden dining table, long as a church pew, that dominates his apartment.

There's still a little bit left of summer, and that means just a bit more time to treat yourself before we become grownups again in the fall. For many of us, that means a delectable treat from one of the spectacular bakeries and patisseries around town.

You don't see this very often. Eric Mathews is sitting on a park bench at the Astoria Houses promenade watching the fog roll off the East River.

It's the dog days of summer, and Zora is sitting on the front porch watching the people pass by.

Summer is the season for BBQ, and this summer, Texas BBQ is getting a lot of attention in New York. But there's more to Texan cuisine than BBQ, and food-forward Brooklyn is now home to New York's most recent Texan import: the Kolache.

The real art is right here in the elevator, on the floor, in the record of the passage of time and people, their footprints, drippings, crumbs, spittle, flecks, tracks, stains and movements. When did we begin bubble-wrapping art?

The bars listed here are not only sure to be loaded with desirable single men, but might just have the right match for your personality.

John McDonagh, in a hoodie and hooligan cap on, is not behind the wheel. It's his day off, and he's at the diner having his breakfast between errands that will take him all over the place before the sun sets.

For every beautiful thing that happens in this city -- and there are many -- at least a few things a day make you question what you're doing living in the steaming pile of disease that is the Big Apple.

Before I could move out of anyone's way, the cyclist turned around in his cerulean shorts that left little to the imagination and asked me the question that many of your citizens ask of me after almost running me over: "What the f*ck is wrong with you?"