One-third through my first Coco Mojito, I became blind to the traffic zooming by on Route 3 East. It’s safe to say, that if I were capable of only three senses – taste, smell and sound - I might fancy myself somewhere in the Riviera Maya. But I wasn’t in Playa del Carmen or Tulum, or some sexy South American city. I was in Secaucus, NJ.
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