LOL. EVERY. TIME. The studio that I subleased had the barest of a bare kitchen, which did not include a can opener. S bought some black beans from the bodega down the block, came home, and realized that there was no way of opening it lest he stab (probably himself) it with a knife. He thought that perhaps he could exchange this can for one with a pop-up tab. Instead, the toothy Korean lady running the cash register pushed the intercom button and yelled something indistinguishable to the crew downstairs. A beat later, a tiny old Korean man run up with a can opener and some plastic wrap. He quickly opened the can, wrapped it up, and sent S on his way back.
Let's just say that bodega saw us regularly afterwards.
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