A Place Called Home

Shortly after I moved into my Manhattan apartment in 2001, I discovered the building next door served as a halfway house for LGBT minority youths. Needless to say, the experience has been entertaining, colorful and extremely loud - especially during the summer when they raged all night their stoop-side torch songs. Sometimes in ass-less jeans.

Walking by this past week, I realized they moved out. And I'm planning the same. Was this the final seal? (And what does that say about me?) East Gramercy will never be the same.