They had no bananas today. At least, that was the word around town. Horowitz’s grocery, run by a German Jew, was the only grocer in the entire neighborhood of over a thousand Italian Catholics. He never had anything they wanted, no fresh mozzarella, no aged salami. No pepperoni, it was like the man had something against pork. But they always could rely on the old man to go to the shipping district three mornings a week for fresh produce and a sizeable selection of bananas. It was Tuesday, his usual produce day, and nothing. He said the bananas were gone.