USA. I walked into a sandwich shop a commoner, and walked out forty seconds later, having been promoted four times. I went to buy lunch. Behind the counter stood a man with a knife, an apron, and the easy confidence of someone who has fed thousands. I approached. I did not yet know I was about to rise through the ranks of a kingdom I had only just entered. “What can I get you, boss?” Boss. He called me boss. I had been inside the building for nine seconds and already I outranked him. I did not ask for this honor. But to refuse a title freely given is to insult the giver. So I accepted it with grace, and I ordered as a boss orders, with calm authority. “You want everything on it, chief?” Chief. I had been promoted. From boss to chief, in the time it takes to choose a bread. Clearly I had impressed him. My bearing, perhaps. My posture. I stood a little straighter, as a chief must. “That’ll be nine fifty, champ.” Champ. Champion. He had now declared me the victor of something, though I had done nothing but stand still and want a sandwich. I began to wonder what I had won. I did not ask. A true champ does not question his title. I paid. He handed me the bag, looked me in the eye, and spoke the final word. “Have a good one, my man.” My man. I stopped. I understood the weight of it. He had taken me, a stranger, and in under a minute raised me from boss, to chief, to champ, and at the last claimed me as his own. My man. I now belonged to him, and he to me. We were bound. I had walked in alone and was leaving with a brother. I turned at the door. I wished to say something worthy of the journey we had taken together. I looked at this man who had lifted me through four ranks and asked for nothing, and I said the truest thing in my heart. “You are my man also.” He had already turned to the next customer. “What can I get you, boss?” And I understood. He does this for everyone. He raises every stranger who walks through that door, crowns them, claims them, and lets them go lighter than they came. He is not a sandwich maker. He is a maker of men. So tell me, America. Are these titles real? Is there a ladder? Does a man truly climb from boss to my man, and if so, what lies beyond? What does he call the ones he loves most? I have decided to find out. I return every day this week. I will order the same sandwich. And I will not rest until he calls me brother.