Beaches by Daniel Morris Coney Island A guy calls, “ICE COLD WATER, ICE COLD COKES.” Then quietly: “beers”. His white shirt is sweated through and he’s wearing jeans out here at the seaside, sand in his socks. “Hey buddy, some of those.” The drinks are in two plastic bags, the bottoms heavy with ice. It probably costs him 4 for a 6-pack.  He charges 3 a beer. 6 beers, that’s 18. 14 for profit. “Keep the change and keep ‘em […]