Okay, this is ALL WRONG.

Gaah. Let me explain: this was a restaurant. Not a great one, granted. But it was a 24-hour hash house with some pretensions to gentility. You'll understand my point about shrinkage when you realize that this space held three rows of booths - one against the wall, two in the middle. Plus aisles.

We're looking towards the kitchen, or what once was the kitchen.

This was the room that held all that daily drama? The kvetching cooks, squabbling waiters, dozing customers, managers, janitors, dishwashers, bartenders? This? Unpossible, as a wise man once said.