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I got to Omaha before sunrise. Wandering around in the dark and cold, I encountered a lurking character who asked me if I knew what a bagel was? "Yeah, man, I'm from the East Coast!" Without smiling, he pointed to the lettering on his sweat shirt, "BAGEL BIN INC." "They make the best bagels in Omaha," he then announced before lurching away. I'm not sure if he's an employee of said establishment, on his way to work, perhaps, or maybe Bagel Bin had paid him a few bucks to proselytize to pre-dawn heathens about the merits of its wondrous bread rolls, each with a hole in the middle, like that which exists in each of our heads, hearts and souls.



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