As the Queens bureau chief for Cole Slaw Blog, I have internalized that my borough lies in that horse latitude of the coolness scale somewhere between the "Having Your Mom Bring The Lunch You Forgot" and "Wearing Your Pants Backwards." (Yes, both of those things happened to me in grade school. )
Normally, I don't care. I consider my neighborhood a well-kept secret. And until some magazine discovers the simple joys of reading at an outdoor cafe with a sludgy Greek coffee and some flaky, honeyed Greek pastry you've never heard of, it will remain that way.
And yet, last night my cineaste roommate attended a pre-midnight showing of what he thought would be the original "Batman." It was billed as the 1989 original, but instead, he and a theater full of Queens residents (we're not "-ites") were treated to a preview of "Batman Begins" before Manhattan, Brooklyn and the rest of the country. So what if it was only by one minute? When you live in the middle-child borough, you take what you can get.
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