Miya's is a tasty little place where the sushi is not particularly Japanese but the bathroom decor is. Exotic colors and plants amuse the eye, Japanese movie posters make me feel cooler than I really am. I locked myself in the one-shitter and felt the tiniest bit of peace; a place removed from the boisterous conversations of a packed-in Yalie crowd, all stretching for intellectual conversational superiority. Half way through my number one, there is a knock at the door. I hurry it up, snap a couple shots and open the door to greet the lanky, brown-blazered, young thinker on his way in.
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