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June 23, 2007

WTF, Deli Guy?

I just got back from a quick trip to the grocery store to pick up a couple of things from the deli for dinner tonight. I walked in and they were sparsely busy, with people running here and there doing odds and ends before the afternoon crowds hit. I walked up to the counter and an older Hispanic woman greeted me. I asked for a pound of potato salad and fried chicken, and she smiled, nodded, grabbed a spoon, and started shoveling chicken salad into a container. I politely stopped her and said, "Sorry, I meant a pound of potato salad." She smiled again, nodded, scooped out half of the container, and held it up for my approval. I smiled, shook my head, and finally said in Spanish(keep in mind, the rest of the conversation with her was in Spanish), "No ma'am, I was asking for a pound of potato salad and an order of chicken." "Ohhhh!" she exclaimed, followed by rapid apologies.

I told her that it was fine, that I was sure that they were getting ready for a big afternoon crowd, and she laughed and agreed, slapped a sticker on the plastic container of potato salad...and walked off. I said, "Senora? I also wanted to get an order of chicken, please." She came back, apologizing again, and snatched up a pair of tongs and a plastic container.

People started gathering around to place orders, so I figured I'd make it quick. I pointed to a young girl behind the counter who was placing freshly-cooked pieces of chicken into containers, sealing them off, and labeling them, and said, "I'll take one of those, if you don't mind." I seriously could not have been any more polite to this woman the entire time short of stepping behind the counter, dropping her pants, and tossing her salad in an act of completely servile gratitude.

She turned to a younger guy behind her and asked him something, and he walked up to the counter and snapped at me in English: "THEY'RE $5.99." I tried to mask my "what the fuck" face and said, "...I know that." We matched a stare, and he snarled "THERE'S ALSO CHICKEN IN THE CASE BEHIND YOU."

"I know that, but I would like one of the orders that's already put together with freshly-made chicken, if that's okay."

Now mind you, all he had to do was just reach over, pick up the goddamn container, and hand it to me, and the whole scenario would have been said and done in a matter of three-five seconds, but no. He stood there, sour-faced, and barked "THE CHICKEN IS MADE FRESH EVERY 45 MINUTES."

I finally thought, 'You know what? Screw this guy.'

"Well, sir, if I wanted something that's been sitting in the case for who knows how long, then I would have picked it out of the FUCKING case then, wouldn't I?"

The people who had gathered to order snapped their heads in our direction and got really quiet.

The guy's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He reached over, picked up a container of chicken, and handed it to me.

I kept the same glare that he had afforded me from the beginning of our conversation, growled "Thank you, sir, and have a great day", and walked off.

Having worked in a deli before, I know it can be frustrating. Try working at a decent Italian bistro frequented by wealthy Westside yuppie-types and then come be a dick to me over fried fucking chicken, dude.