Soon after I moved to Brooklyn, I took a walk down Henry Street from the Heights and into Carroll Gardens. Along the way, I stared into the glass store-front of an abandoned corner drug store; it was one of those ghostly places where time stood still, where one day, no one came back--door locked, stock left on shelves, raincoat hanging on a coat rack, waiting. The accumulation of dust was fantastic, and the amount of stuff, incredible. If you don't believe in expiration dates--and I don't--there was a store of aspirin in there that would make you weak in the knees. It wasn't until several weeks ago that I noticed some action at the old pharmacy, and now, since my return to the BK, it has (re)opened it's doors as an old-fashioned soda fountain, egg creams and all. I want to go to there and drink one with a boy, two straws.