Hello Deli
I support my drinking habit by working in a deli. A posh, chi chi deli for rich students and tourists. In addition to being a deli, my store also serves posh sandwiches for 2.50-3.50 (and that’s in pounds, so we’re talking $4.50-$6.50ish) that are grilled on a very hot, oil-splattering grill named “Michael” which has given me numerous scars over both my hands, the cheeky bastard.
I work for two of the most heinous bitches the world has created, both of whom are also American (of-fucking-course).
So today, we had a fairly large lunch rush. I was back in the sandwich bar doing my thang with 4 sandwiches on the grill and 10 people in line. Then….disaster! I’ve run out of parma ham just as someone is ordering the 3.50 “Sophia Loren” sandwich (parma ham, parmeasan, pesto, sweet peppers and rocket lettuce).
So I bring a plastic tub up front, where one of my managers is decorating the window for Cinquo de Mayo. “Fiesta!” she is writing. “Fiesta! Fiesta! Fiesta!” across our large storefront.
“Hey, Jess, can you cut me some parma?”
“If you want meat, you’re going to have to get it yourself.”
At this point I look at my queue and start to whimper like a sickly child. “But…” I begin. Then I give up. She continues to write “Fiesta!” in alternating pink and yellow markers. Too important to help me cut some more meat. “Fiesta! Fiesta! Fiesta!”
I put the giant parma ham in the scary meat slicer, set the blade on the appropriate setting and begin to cut. Jess condecends to look over at me. “You’re doing it all wrong. It’s backwards!” she yells and I notice that I’ve put the meat in so the top is facing down. Whoops.
WELL MAYBE IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS SO FRAZZLED BECAUSE 10 PEOPLE ARE WAITING FOR THEIR POSH, EXPENSIVE SANDWICHES. She still doesn’t help me, though, and leaves me to fix it. By the time I get back to making sandwiches I’ve nearly burned 2 of them and I have 10 very unhappy people.
Fortunately, I’ve just been awarded enough money for next year so that all I have to do is study. I don’t have to work, and trust me, I’m going to put on a fruit hat and dance a freakin’ jig when I finally give my notice at the deli.
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Comments
What I meant to say there was that here in NYC’s Belmont neighborhood, (the Little Italy of the Bronx), we also have a ‘Sophia Loren’ sandwich, which consists of prosciutto, fresh mozzerella, basil, and a drizzling of EVOO, all on a french baguette. This comes out to about $2.95 - American. If it weren’t for the lack of nearby subway stations, I think I’d move there. :twisted:
Congratulations! I’m gonna ignore all that other horrible stuff, because, really, who needs it?