Back in 2020 when indoor dining was shut down in NYC, before restaurants were allowed to build outdoor structures to host diners, my wife and I were walking around our neighborhood with our son, who was only a few months old.

We passed one of our favorite pizza spots. We stopped. It had two small tables (two chairs each) set up outside. Both were pushed against the facade of the building. We hadn't seen something like this in what felt like far too long.

I went inside and ordered some slices and asked the woman at the register, almost sheepishly, "Is it OK if we eat these outside?"

"Of course," she said.

"At the table?"

"That's why they're there."

So once the pizzas were heated up I brought them outside to one of the tables. The table we chose was on a slant -- the concrete it stood on pitched -- but we didn't have any drinks that risked spilling. Only our slices.

We sat there, at a table outside, during a pandemic, and ate pizza. My wife shared her crusts with me and we both shared a sense of relief that when our son is old enough to eat pizza he would be able to enjoy it in this simple way. The world would be normal again.

The following week I wanted to relive the experience, so I took a stroll. Alone this time. But when I came to the pizzeria the tables and chairs were gone from outside.

I asked the woman behind the register what happened.

A neighbor had complained to the city about them: two tables and four chairs outside. So the owner of the place was given a choice: either remove them or risk a $5,000 fine.

I imagined the type of person who would make that phone call. You know the type: our brave neighbors who think they stand up to tyrants.