ABSTRACT
I pull onto I-95 and head north toward Queens and my parents’ restaurant, where I’m meeting Sarah and the girls for dinner. The Humpty Dumpty Bar & Grill is a joint at the corner of 31st Street and Ditmars Blvd. in the Astoria neighborhood—Greektown. There’s a neon sign outside—Humpty taking a header, which for the longest time was a metaphor for my life. Unlike Humpty, I’ve managed to put my life back together, even if I’m not feeling so hot.
