The Deli Wars

Yesterday, was our "big" food shopping day. Usually, for the big shopping, I ask my husband to come along so we can split up the list and get out of the supermarket as quickly as possible. Our first stop was the deli counter. I don't eat deli meat, so I like him to choose what kind of lunch meat he wants. Since it was a Saturday and the store was packed, the line for the deli was long. I ripped off a ticket from the number dispenser and it said 38. I looked up and the "now serving" sign read 22. This was going to be a long wait. I am not a patient person when it comes to the deli line. I am going to say something that you might not like, but I can't stand waiting in line behind all the senior citizens, and yesterday, the majority of that line consisted of senior citizens.

Don't pounce on me and don't send the Gray Panthers after me. I have my reasons why I have no patience with the seniors in the deli line. First, they take ten minutes sampling everything before deciding what they want. Then, after the deli person prepares their order, they examine each piece of meat to see if it is sliced to the right width. God forbid, one piece of low-sodium ham is thicker than the rest because if that happens, the order gets tossed, and the deli worker has to start all over again. There were times I actually thought I might die waiting in the deli line.

I know that many of you are saying that senior citizens do not mean to keep people waiting, but I think you are wrong. It is my sincerest belief that the goal of senior citizens in deli lines is to drive the non-senior citizen population insane. I think there is a secret AARP chapter whose main mission is the slow mental annihilation of the non-senior citizen masses, and their main weapon of choice is the supermarket deli line.

Anyway, when I saw the line at the deli counter and who was in it, I decided to use the ordering kiosk. The little computer with the touch screen takes my order, prints out a receipt and in about 20 minutes, I go back to the deli, find my order in the selected bin, and all this was accomplished without me waiting in line. It's a great idea that has saved me a great deal of time and possibly the lives of many older Americans.

Yesterday, my husband selected turkey breast and American cheese. American cheese is an amazing product. Where I grew up, yellow American seemed to be the more popular color choice for cheese. I never asked why it was yellow. I thought that yellow was the natural color of cheese. To this day, I am not sure if this is not so. I haven't looked into cheese color. When I moved to Philly years ago, white American was the most popular choice of the citizenry. So, wanting to fit in, I abandoned my loyalty for yellow American and started to buy white cheese.

Well, when I selected the American cheese yesterday, I guess I accidentally hit the icon for a yellow cheese because that is what was in the pickup bin. At first, I couldn't find my order, so I asked the lady behind the deli counter if my order was still waiting to be done. She asked for my receipt that the kiosk printed out, and I gave it to her. Keep in mind that I was very polite, and up until this point, I did not sense any hostility from her.

She took the receipt and found my two items. I should have just kept my mouth shut about the damn yellow cheese, but no, I had to say,

"Oh, yellow cheese, I thought I ordered the white. Can I get white instead?"

A look so evil came over her face. She leaned her head over the counter and said,

"If you didn't want the yellow cheese, you shouldn't have ordered the yellow cheese. CAN'T YOU READ?"

I was sort of shocked. I thought this was kind of rude. A few years ago, my first reaction might have been to leap over the counter and fight it out, but as I get more into this middle age thing, I am trying to become classier, so I said,

"I am sorry. I know I screwed up, but it's only freaking cheese."

"Do you think we have nothing better to do with our time than redo orders?"

"I don't know; I was guessing it was your job."

I would have continued the discussion but my husband was waiting for me by the checkout, and I didn't want him to hear over the P.A. system : "Would a Mr. Cavanagh meet the police at the deli counter? Your wife is being arrested for a physical altercation with a store employee."

If that happened, he would never go food shopping with me again. So, for the sake of marital bliss, I backed down and took the turkey and the yellow cheese.

My husband was irked that it took me so long to get back from the deli. "Where were you?"

So, I told him the tale of how the deli lady yelled at me. He just shook his head, but he was pretty impressed with my restraint, and that I didn't clock her. Honestly, by the time we got to the parking lot, I was over the whole thing, but my husband was still a little ticked.

"You know, I hate how customer service is. I hate that store employees can be rude and no one cares."

I did agree with him. I think that customer service has taken a dive in recent years. I know that when a store or restaurant does offer good service, I tend to go back. I truly appreciate it because it is a rare occurrence. Would my encounter with the rude deli woman stop me from going to that supermarket? No. I am not a grudge holder. Plus, her anger was at such a high level that something had to happen to tick her off before I came along with my stupid cheese mistake. Who knows? Maybe she had to work a double shift or maybe she had a disagreement with another worker or a supervisor or maybe she was the one who had to re-slice all the senior citizen low-sodium ham orders.