I am sitting in the White Horse Tavern somewhere deep in Lower Manhattan sipping a three dollar glass of Yuengling and waiting for an order of rubbery chicken fingers to arrive. This is the kind of place in which you never say hello or goodbye to the bartender. “Thank you” is out of the question. [...]

I am sitting in the White Horse Tavern somewhere deep in Lower Manhattan sipping a three dollar glass of Yuengling and waiting for an order of rubbery chicken fingers to arrive.