I am visiting an unfamiliar city with my friend. The dirty metal buildings are towering and the streets are suffocatingly crowded. We are looking for a pce to eat.

  I see an entrance to an underground tunnel that is blessedly free of people and has a sign posted near the entrance advertising a six minute walk to a pizza pce. It takes some convincing, but my friend follows me down.

  The tunnel is not entirely empty of pedestrians, and when we find the pizza vendor there is a small crowd gathered around, but compared to the streets above it feels like I can finally breathe. The pizza joint itself is set entirely into the wall of the tunnel with only a long gss window allowing a view into the kitchen; more food court vendor than restaurant, but I don’t mind.

  My friend points out that the people working the pizza pce all look like very rough sorts and specutes that the venue is in fact a front for some manner of criminal activity. I tell her that I don’t care what they do in their off hours because right now they’re serving me a very legal and very delicious slice of pizza.