There’s one in every Jersey town. More than one, probably. Named the same. Fat Tony’s. Greasy Joe’s. Vince’s.  They all look the same, with the grease-slick linoleum floor that was never new, faded posters of barely-remembered movies, maybe a Pong or Pac-Man machine, maybe out of order.

The smell of cheese, of vinegar, of frying onions and peppers. Stacks of sub rolls piled on a rack, a well-worn slicer on the back counter. The shop’s first dollar in a cheap frame on the wall above a Polaroid of the owner’s father behind the counter, face bleached snow-white by the flashbulb.

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  1. Anonymous

    Joe’s Cafe – we call them around here. Have you seen the high rolling car parked out back?

Don't just stand there.