Coffee And Doughnuts

This is the first installment of a new monthly column written by a real, live NYPD cop. And you are correct, that is not his real name. Grabbing lunch every day on a cop’s salary (STARTS at $34,970) is not easy, especially in New York City. Remember all those transit workers who went on strike? Half of them make more than us. And no, we don’t eat for free. You see, the NYPD is convinced that a free cup of coffee is a slippery slope, and it’s just a matter of time before we’re shaking down drug dealers and robbing old ladies. If a business is caught giving free or discounted meals it will be declared an “off-limits location” and I could be disciplined just for going inside. Free or discounted meals are not worth the trouble. On our salary we budget roughly $5 a day for food. The only way to do that is by eating, cue Elvis, in the ghetto. Not the “inner city” or “impoverished urban area” but the ghetto (only the politically correct and the media need euphemisms). The ghetto, AKA upper Manhattan, AKA East Harlem, is a land of Plexiglas-walled serving counters and processed food, a place where the streets are three digits and you can see the sky. I’m not saying you can eat well for five bucks, and you sure as hell can’t eat healthy for five bucks, but you can eat something for five bucks. An easy first choice is the old standby, pizza. I know it’s full of fat and carbs, but when your job involves wearing a gun and bullet-resistant vest, somehow cheese and flour don’t seem so frightening. Average price per slice: $1.50. Two slices and a soda is $4. That means later we can get some coffee! Option number two is fast food if you order off the 99-cent “value” menu. That’s a plain cheeseburger, a chicken sandwich, or some kind of chicken nugget variation. Two entrée items, fries, and a coke is $4 plus tax. Unfortunately, paying tax means no coffee later on. Another choice is Chinese food. Chinese-food restaurants above 96th street are as ubiquitous as Starbucks coffee shops are in the rest of the city, but they look like Mao designed them. A table or two, a metal grill door, and two or three gas jets is all you’re getting. Also, the employees are actually Chinese, and by that I mean two weeks ago they were in China. I always feel bad for these guys. Their average height is about 5'3", they weigh maybe 95 pounds, and they speak no English. And these are the DELIVERYMEN! Not surprisingly, they get robbed with alarming frequency. Hell, most women could kick their asses. I always like to speculate what these guys’ lives are like as I take a report and try to find the kids who took their $42 and BBQ spare ribs. One day you’re in China, kicking around the countryside, checking on your crops, then three days later you’re on the 25th floor of a housing project with a bleeding lip and no money, trying to explain to me what happened with the 25 English words you know. They keep coming over, though, so I can’t help but think, “Damn, Communist China must really, really suck.” I digress. Ghetto Chinese food is a different world. For one thing, you ain’t getting dim sum and some tea. The duck sauce packets are locked up behind the Plexiglas and you better not ask for more than two of them. There’s also that well-known Chinese delicacy, fried plantains. Yep, in a classic example of adapting to the consumer, plantains are available along with the egg rolls. Also, for about 50 cents you can get fried chicken wings. No attempt to Asian them up, mind you, just plain fried chicken. So, for the low-budget gourmand, chicken and broccoli (get it steamed if you are Mr. Healthy) and a homemade Chinese iced tea is four bucks and change. Play your cards right (get a small iced tea for example) and later we can have coffee! Speaking of chicken, that is another (and final) option for the hungry but financially challenged. KFC is out of the $5 price range unless you have a coupon. In fact, even Popeye’s is a bit upscale. But KFC isn’t the only KFC in town. What about Kennedy Fried Chicken? I have to confess that even for me, a man of limited resources and an iron gut, this is a last-resort choice. I don’t mean to impugn the reputation of the Kennedys, (well, at least not the chicken Kennedys), but I get the impression that quality control, or even changing the fry oil, is not a big priority here. On the plus side, five bucks gets you a heaping plate of chicken, some rubbery fries, and a soda. No money for coffee, but trust me, after this meal, you won’t want any. So remember, the next time you’re hungry but strapped in Manhattan, just go north. The more numerals in the street sign, the less numerals you need in your wallet. OFFICER LEO FEARPINI