This old man has been working the pizza place next door for over 40 years. He has got to be in his late 70’s by now. But everyday I close the door that leads to the swinging iron gate that flows out onto the sidewalk, where I then see the old man in his shop bright and early.

I think, when does he sleep, does he have a wife, how many more years can the old man wake up and keep doing this? But, everyday he is in there early and stays late, like really late.

Sometimes he is in there until 1AM. Then he has his regulars like the tall london accented guy who seems like he would be a perfect candidate for the starring role of Wallace from Wallace and Grommet to the hipster girl who swings over after work every other night.

Day in day out, the old man kneads the dough and sprinkles the cheese on top after the sauce is splashed on of course.

Then with his whole body he pushes the peel into the oven and you watch and you feel like you want to help and reach over the old dinged up white marble counter top and say hey old man I can help you do that, I can help lift it up into the fire and while I am at it I could help you read the numbers on the tiny cash-register keypad because I watch you struggle punching in the numbers on the key pad through the window from the sidwalk. These are the things I think about when I walk past his shop everyday and as I cross the street, sometimes in the quite of the morning I wonder when the day will be that I wake up and  he is no longer there. 


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