Tuesday night I'm eating at Paquito's on 1st Avenue, a Mexican restaurant that I find to be increasingly decent with each visit, when Ms. Erin Enke, my keen-eyed dining companion, notices something moving about behind the decorative cow skull on the wall behind me.
A mouse. A mouse calls the cow skull on the wall at Paquito's home. Or home away from home (as the fellow later scurried down the wall and out the front door). But even though the restaurant had a light vermin situation going on, I'd still go back, because it's just that hard it is to find passable Mexican food in New York.
Perhaps you need to get a closer look at the little guy? Click.
For some reason I felt like I was being a rude guest of the restaurant when I photographed the mouse, like if the waiters knew what I was doing I'd get in trouble.