EVERYONE IS A GHOST TO ME

I visited The Man tonight. He's an Old Favorite and an Old Reliable and I've been buying his $2.50 pistachio hot fudge sundaes for years now. I don't know if other people besides me and my very close friends call him The Man but that is What and Who he is and I've never bothered to learn his real name. He has a name, I'm sure; he's not merely The Man, he's A Man, and I realized that tonight and that realization made me feel sad because A) I'm leaving the neighborhood and won't see The Man as much as I do now, and B) The Man is becoming very quickly The Old Man and I was struck for the first time since I first started seeing him that one day he will cease to exist and when that day comes who will run his tiny shop? There will be no more The Man and what a pity. That sounds glib, and maybe it is, and I don't mean to be.

I love you, The Man, for all your years of hot fudge sundaes always when I needed something small and sweet made sweeter still by my being able to count on it.

You can all go find your own Man but if you want to visit mine I am not the jealous type. He is on the West side of Avenue A between 7th and 8th and the sign says Belgian Fries. I don't mind sharing something this special but you gotta take me up on it quick quick quick, better go before it's gone.