by Jim Brady

Created on: November 10, 2008

The man in the booth closest to the coat rack looked up at the same time Barry looked away from the portable television he had been watching. As the commercial began, Barry noticed the man's face, that annoyed look they get when they stop reading their Daily News or studying their Blackberry and suddenly realize they don't have ketchup, even though the cheeseburger's been sitting there in front of them for the last 20 minutes.

The man didn't even motion, just looked, and Barry shuffled over, wiping off his hands on his apron en route.

"Can I get another one?"

The guy had come into the diner about 20 minutes before, stripping off his suit jacket, and tossing it onto the seat of the first booth, even as he slid in beside it. He then quickly ordered a corned beef on rye with an irritated tone before Barry even had a chance to come from behind the counter to greet him. There hadn't even been time to grab a menu.

Barry nodded and left.

Extracting a fresh pair of plastic gloves from the cardboard box behind the counter, Barry took a plate from the steaming stack he had just washed. He piled the meat extra high, the last of it, being it was 3 A.M , only two hours before the meat delivery truck would rumble into the alley beside the diner. He even toasted the rye bread. What the hell. The diner was empty, so he didn't mind the company, since the guy looked tired and cranky but not dangerous. And he was in the business of feeding people, no? Even if he didn't own the place. Plus this guy definitely looked like he had an appetite.

For sure, the guy needed a booth. He was big enough to escape notice at a Green Bay Packers practice, and Barry tried to imagine the people scattering from the overflow if he ever decided to jump into a pool. This guy's going for dessert with both hands, Barry figured, so he glanced over at the pies and cakes twirling in the lighted display case. There was enough to keep Big Boy happy.

But now as he approached the table with the second sandwich, he noticed that the man had assembled condiments in preparation for a visitor, lining up several yellow plastic packets of mustard and those small humped-paper salts and peppers that you had to crack open like a fortune cookie. He had folded a napkin carefully and placed his own knife and fork atop it. He had also produced a small glass bottle, the size of an eye drop dispenser.

"Do you need more silverware?" Barry asked. He placed the second sandwich beside the newly created place setting.

"No, I'll take

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>