New York Times: Joe's Pizza

I was walking North, skirting Greenwich Village on its Western edge when I decided I was hungry. I entered Joe's Pizza just a few steps behind someone else.

He asked how much a slice of pizza cost. $1.75. He asked if he could pay just $1.65. He explained his reasoning:
"Always jacking up the price."
"The man in the uniform always looking at me like..."
"I don't have that kind of money."

He looked back at me, asked me to make up the difference. I said no, and he seemed to detect the hatred in my eyes. He left.

The manager apologized, was visibly angry. He said Another minute and that guy would have been out the window. The manager wanted me to know that he (the manager) is not a bad guy. He says, "That guy was just drunk. Did you smell him?" I shrugged, but I was no friend of the guy who'd just left. I said, "Uhm, before, on the sidewalk out front he was, uhm, complimenting a lady." The manager said, "It wasn't like this when my father was here."

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