Everybody knows Joe

In Short

At least two persons live in each of us, and one of them is Joe. This short story follows Joe through a typical Thursday in New York City as he consumes massive breakfasts, struts through library research on biochemistry without an assignment, patronizes a kind librarian, and rationalizes neglecting his unwritten work. He spends the evening leading on Maggie, a sociology doctoral student who accommodates him with wine and music, only to be caught bluffing when she tests him with a mispressed record. It has lasted as a sharp, psychological character study of self-deception and internal division.

The Story

The story opens on a Thursday morning in a hotel room where Joe wakes up, shaves, and admires his own reflection while his weary, cynical inner companion watches and narrates. Joe heads to a coffee shop, where he orders a heavy, high-calorie breakfast consisting of tomato juice, two fried eggs, three sausages, a sugared doughnut, and coffee with cream and sugar. Although his inner voice protests that a man who sits around cannot work off such a meal, Joe justifies it by convincing himself that a hard-working man needs a good breakfast and that his extra weight is simply an unfortunate affliction. Despite wanting to take a taxi eight blocks to the library, the narrator bullies him into walking, causing Joe to arrive glowing with virtue.

At the New York Public Library, Joe fills out his reference slip with characteristic grandiosity. He lists his firm as The Griffin Press, Inc., even though he is a free lance without a definite assignment, and describes his research purpose with bloated pomposity. When a polite old librarian hands him his materials, Joe proceeds to lecture him on how microfilm files ought to be organized and how the library should switch to microcard. Settling down to work, he transcribes about a hundred entries for an article on the year in biochemistry, stopping for a noon break of apple pie and coffee. Afterward, he struts down the steps feeling like Herman Melville finishing Moby Dick.

When the narrator tells him not to be so smug since he still has to write and sell the piece, Joe dismisses it as a mere detail of journalism that he can do with his eyes shut. He compares himself to Gautama Buddha and Mohammed, wondering why he cannot suddenly bust loose with a new revelation, and decides he will not write the article tonight after all. He grabs a quick lunch at an automat and phones Maggie, a sociology doctoral student at N.Y.U. who lives in a Greenwich Village apartment with dyed burlap drapes and studio couches. Maggie is available as usual, treating writing as something holy while keeping open house for Joe, who strings her along with vague hints about settling down when he turns thirty.

They drink rhine wine and seltzer while Joe boasts about his day's work and condescends to Maggie regarding the unquantitative nature of sociology, which she humbly accepts. Later, Maggie asks him to listen to a new LP of the Brahms Serenade Number One and share his thoughts. Joe plays both sides, sipping wine and effortlessly tossing off technical commentary on Brahms' architectonics, contrapuntal style, and debt to Haydn and Beethoven because he sneakily read the record's envelope. Once the music finishes, Maggie reveals that she bought the record at a discount because it is a wrong pressing: the first side is Brahms, but the second side is actually Schumann's Symphonic Studies. She notes that he evidently did not notice the switch. Trapped in his own pretense, Joe stands up, utters a strangled remark about her not being his friend and never learning, and walks out while his silent narrator observes that he truly never will.

How It Unfolds

• The morning routine begins: Joe wakes up in a hotel room, shaves, admires his reflection, and indulges in a massive, calorie-heavy breakfast that he immediately rationalizes.
• The walk to the library: Prodded by his cynical inner voice into walking instead of taking a taxi, Joe arrives at the library feeling entirely virtuous about his minor exertion.
• The research session: Joe fills out his reference slip with an exaggerated claim of working for an encyclopedia, condescends to the librarian, and completes his biochemical note-taking.
• The grandiose dismissal: Strutting down the library steps like a literary giant, Joe decides to postpone writing his article and compares his potential future impact to historical prophets.
• The evening with Maggie: Joe visits Maggie at her Greenwich Village apartment, accepts her hospitality, patronizes her academic discipline, and drinks wine while waiting for her cue.
• The musical trap: Maggie plays a record for Joe, listens as he delivers a fake critique based purely on the album cover, and finally exposes that he failed to notice the second side contained Schumann instead of Brahms.

The People

• Joe: A free-lance writer who wants to be seen as a literary genius and a hardworking intellectual, but who mostly avoids actual labor, exaggerates his professional standing, and exploits the affection of others. He stands in his own way through endless self-deception and arrogance, ending the story exposed, humiliated, and retreating into wounded pride after his musical bluff is called.
• The Narrator: Joe's internal companion and alter ego who wants honesty and accountability from Joe, but is trapped tagging along inside his mind. Armed with sharp cynicism and weary disgust, the narrator observes Joe's every rationalization and delusion, ultimately left shaking his head as Joe repeats his cycle of pretense.
• Maggie: A graduate student in sociology at N.Y.U. who wants companionship, intellectual connection, and genuine commitment from a partner. Standing in her way is Joe's selfish refusal to let her go while refusing to offer real stability, though she finally turns the tables by orchestrating a quiet test that exposes his superficiality.

In Its Own Voice

At least two persons live in each of us. At least one of them is Joe.

This opening declaration establishes the core premise of a divided internal consciousness and introduces the cynical narrator who observes Joe's every move.

He swaggered down the library steps, feeling like Herman Melville after finishing Moby Dick.

This line captures Joe's inflated sense of accomplishment after doing routine library research.

"You're a louse, Joe. You know all she wants is a husband and you know it isn't going to be you, so why don't you let go of the girl so she can find somebody who means business?"

The internal narrator confronts Joe directly regarding his unfair treatment of Maggie and his habit of leading her on.

What It's Really About

The story explores the psychology of self-deception, intellectual imposture, and the internal division between how a man perceives himself and how he actually behaves. It examines the mechanisms of rationalization through which an unproductive slacker convinces himself he is a misunderstood genius. Beneath the light satire of Greenwich Village literary circles and academic pretension lies a sharper question about emotional parasitism: why people cling to comforting illusions about their own talent and character while using others for comfort and ego validation. It contrasts the comforting internal narratives people spin for themselves with the cold, undeniable reality of their mediocrity.

Why Read It Today

Readers who love sharp psychological character studies, mid-century magazine fiction, and cynical inner monologues will appreciate this piece. It feels intimate, snappy, and acutely observant, capturing the specific flavor of urban bohemian life and intellectual posturing in the 1950s. What stays with you is the brilliant framing device of the exasperated inner critic who cannot escape the man he is tethered to. While modern readers may need to adjust to period references like microfilm, LP records, and mid-century urban geography, the portrait of everyday self-delusion remains universally recognizable. Anyone who has ever watched someone talk their way out of accountability while digging their own grave will find both humor and quiet recognition here.