One winter Delaware Valley morning when it was raining, not snowing; I made my way to a table next to some beefy college students, I had my coffee, the Philly Enquirer and something I rarely buy- some of those orange cheesy crackers with peanut butter between them.

Today, I had an appointment, out patient, with a VA  
psychiatrist downtown (depression) about which I remember feeling  
ambivalent. I'd go in there and he wouldn't say anything until I did.  
(The Dr. liked to look at me as though it was taking a while for him  
to remember why I was seeing him.)

 "Only The Good Die Young" was playing over the dusty pharmacy speaker above me as I sat down and turned to the sports page.
I half noticed a tall, professional looking man seat himself across the table from me. He vaguely nodded and I continued reading.

Remembering my crackers- my stomach was growling- I heard
paper being torn and without looking I could tell the man across the  
table was opening something. I lowered my paper slightly and was  
shocked to see him opening the orange cheesy
crackers and pop one into his mouth. He ate it like it was a piece of  
fish he had caught and cleaned and cooked for himself. I wasn't upset  
so much as I was surprised by his bold acquisition- he could've simply  
asked. He immediately ate another and returned behind his paper. I decided I
better get one before he ate them all and reached for the  
pack, emptying two into my hand. I inhaled the first one and then, more perfunctorily, I ate the second one, the cheesy cracker part filling my gumline like mortar, keeping me from asking a question I couldn't even word.    
I don't mind sharing, but usually there's some sort of protocol, even  
here, I thought. I didn't want to embarrass him so I put the pack  
back towards the middle of the of the coffee stained table top, but  
territorially in my sector and continued reading. At this point I  
could hear the train approaching and  saw people saying goodbye  
outside to their wives and kids. I looked back and the man had picked  
up the pack with two crackers left and popped them both into his  
mouth as he rose and left the table in one smooth motion, without so  
much as an acknowledgement or Thank you! I hurriedly grabbed my wet  
coat off the seat and remember thinking- "The nerve some people  
have! How rude!"

However as I picked up my paper from the table in half disgust, my heart stopped and sank so far into my bowels I couldn't move. I felt something  
fall into my lap and in slow motion I looked down to see the full pack of  
crackers I had purchased staring up at me like a refrigerator note  
from God, meant to remind rather than warn. I must have said Fuck Me!  
under my breath in a room that had become as quiet as an undiscovered  
tomb as I looked for the nearest escape route. I left the pharmacy,  
feeling like my clothes were too big. I caught the next train in.

...the ground's a long way down, but I need more...

When I arrived at the secretary's desk I thought she looked hostile and tipped off. I edged, hurriedly, past her and as I
I shut the door to Dr. Royce's office and plopped down into the  
chair, I heard the crackers slightly crunching, and I just  
laughed. I had planned to walk in today and just utter a simple, celebrative "Jumanji!" I just wanted to see what the Dr. would do.

 "You've got something orange in your beard," the doctor calmly exhorted.

...there's a black cat caught in a high tree top...

we sort of laughed, almost together and I decided I would not ride Philly amtrak ever, ever again.