It amazed me how quiet Soho could be midmorning on a weekday. In an hour or two, there might be small throngs of hip 'insiders' congregating outside Balthazar or Spring Street Naturel, vying for a chance to indulge in an overpriced lunch. But at 10:30am, the locals were all midtown working, or happily ensconced in their lofts creating art. The tourists were either at TKTS hoping to grab half-price matinee tickets to Broadway shows, this being Wednesday, or were window-shopping along Fifth Avenue. There were only one or two lost souls wandering past the store where the cab had stopped, and they hurried along in true New Yorker-style, pretending not to notice how I was being unceremoniously pulled by my hair from the cab onto the sidewalk.

"Wait, damn it," I exclaimed in surprise as he pulled me past the shop entrance to an unmarked black lacquered door to the right of it. "Where are you taking me?"

I instantly sensed, as soon as the words had left my...

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