Ozone Park, Queens

The whole world seems to pass through this aptly named little Queens neighborhood that huddles in the shadow of thundering jets. Ten minutes from JFK International Airport, it becomes an overnight stop for people from France, Guatemala, Florida, nearly every state in the nation.

Our flight from Ft. Myers arrived at JFK just as most places in our hotel's neighborhood were closing for the night.  Even though we'd been snacking all along, the very idea of not having access to any more food made us suddenly ravenous. Anticipating this kind of desperation, I had walked the little yellow GoogleMaps man around the area before we got here and knew the neighborhood rather well. CJ's Bar & Lounge, I now knew, was open late.  After dropping off the bags, we made our way there with hope in our hearts.

This is a good old New York neighborhood pub with a diverse crew of young Hispanic males in hoodies, older Italian gents who live around the corner and come here every night, a handful of (well, okay, two) young women with streaked hair, and travelers through JFK, like us. Monday Night Football was in full-throated roar, the crowd rooting for Seattle against the Redskins, and a crew in the corner were slamming down dominos and shot glasses with equal enthusiasm.

Lucky for us, it was 25-cent wing night, too. I guess we've gotten too accustomed to our puny, 35-cent Florida wings. These New York chickens must be the size of small geese.

In a fit of abandon, we also ordered the chili cheese fries, which proved to be a soggy pile of glop.  But at midnight, after a long day traveling, one becomes none too picky.

With Halloween coming, they've draped the entire building with a gigantic web, complete with mammoth spiders.  When we came outside, a guy on the sidewalk deadpanned, "Bug problem."