At Eisenberg’s Sandwich Shop, Twenty-Second and Fifth Ave:
Pale man in a coat and tie. Ham sandwich. Rye bread. Diet Coke. iPhone.
That’s all he says. Cracker.
Sometimes he says it as a question: Cracker?
Sometimes like he’s answering a question: Cracker!
Sometimes it’s like the punch line of a joke: Craaaacker!
But that’s all he says.
My wife says he talks to her.
Talks to her about tv shows or about her friends or about the color of the curtains. About the news.
But I walk in the door, and all he says is cracker.
Brian Cullman is a writer and musician living in New York City.