There’s a dangerous trap that many new New Yorkers fall into, the concept that time spent sleeping in the city is time wasted. I am a proud victim of this. Since moving here two years ago, I’ve shared a stage with Grammy winners, dined with Iranian dissidents, competed in pun competitions, cooked for a queer bar, befriended one of Joey Ramone’s ex-girlfriends, and met more than one dominatrix. And I can directly link the beginning of my appetite for the city’s limitless supply of unique delights to New York’s Balkan dance scene; specifically, the Staten Island revival of Zlatne Uste’s Golden Festival.
I first learned…