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Ever notice that when you exit the 4/5/6 subway at 59th, both a Subway sandwich shop and the neon-lit sign of the Subway Inn are directly in your line of vision? That kinda thing weirds me out sometimes. Also creepy: the old manatoayoung woman ratio is usually something like 20/0 at this midtown dive. You've got the veterans, the wife beaterawearing guy who looks like (and is happy to fess up that) he's been here since noon, as well as the random dude with an unfinished manuscript, or burnt-out broker seeking solitude. As for ambiance, check out the peeling linoleum.