Some people think I have time on my hands, but in case you didn’t notice, I’m doing more than one thing. Did you see what I have going on out back? There’s 50 kids slicing meat and running around on bikes. You don’t want to be here when I open that door and start shouting. I just like to keep it quiet out front, so I can wait on my old customers.
I try to be like my cousin, who works all the time. But the minute you need him, he's there. Plus, he’s a funny guy who laughs at all your jokes. I’d give him my last dime, but he needs nothing from me. He’s the one with hot rolls. He’s got people driving down from Connecticut and up from Baltimore and he tells them all the same thing: Don’t park in front of the store. My cousin parks around the corner. He drives a different car every day. Three are new, the rest are vintage. He says he collects nothing but gold, of which he has an enormous amount, and French Impressionists, a collection of which he knows nothing but names, like horses, a few of which he also owns. He says that the only thing he’s serious about is bread. He’s got bakeries all over New Jersey, plus an oven in Pennsauken for the restaurants, but no matter what they say, we all know they make the real bread on Mole St. Just don’t park there.
My cousin makes money no matter what. The less money people have, the more they want baked goods. There’s a lot of people who would give my cousin their last dime, and for a good reason. And it’s all in cash, at least around the corner, which is not to say my cousin doesn’t pay taxes. He’s proud to pay taxes, which he supplements with countless rolls distributed at no charge to the local citizenry, often one at a time.
I don’t use my cousin’s bread. Don’t get me wrong. It’s what we eat at home. My cousin would be offended. Besides, we don’t pay. But over here, I’m making a lot of sandwiches, and I don’t want that shit from Pennsauken. I’d bake my own, but then my cousin would be really offended, so I have to buy rolls from some other guy. My cousin loves the idea that I buy my bread from this other guy. This way, he doesn’t have to imagine that he can make a better sandwich, he keeps an eye on this other guy, and I don’t presume to bake bread. It makes the whole picture cozy, everybody with a slice. The way he sees it, between us we feed the whole city. And everybody has to eat. Even today. Look at this. What amazes me is that half the people still want turkey.
