It is Wawa coffee before sunrise, hoagies wrapped in paper, water ice in the summer, roast pork with sharp provolone, row homes stretching block after block, and a city that somehow manages to be deeply loyal while giving absolutely no one an easy time.
This one is for the Philadelphians who eventually headed west and built a life in Las Vegas without leaving that attitude behind.
The winters are easier. The parking is different. The Eagles still make or ruin your Sunday.
