Ayoung man walked into the Dock’s on West 79th Street and complained that he had been given the wrong sandwiches. His date waited in the car. While the cooks made new sandwiches, the man leaned toward the cashier, a young woman. “Since they did not take care of me, you have to,” he said. “Can you put your number in the bag?” With a small smile the cashier grabbed a receipt and a pen, wrote the number, and gave it to him.

–Michael Marsh

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