While I was waiting in line in the post office on Doyers Street (fun fact: also known as "The Bloody Angle"), I thought I might kill some time by checking via Blackberry to see if Dana had posted anything to Young Manhattanite about our trip. She did. I spent the next fifteen minutes hunched over, laughing, as tears streamed down my face. After I collected myself, a man leaned across the rope separating the two of us in our various sections of the Mobius Strip-like line and said only, "This is a precious moment of happiness in the post office." And it was.