“Two fried eggs on a hard roll with butter,” the large Hispanic man in front of me yelled. He was a big guy, probably a construction worker, who's flannel shirt seemed to go on for miles between the shoulders. The petit woman to my left, dressed very conservatively, almost too business like for a Friday in my opinion shouted “seven grain wheat, toasted, with two egg whites.”
So many damn choices, it seems highly unlikely that you would ever hear two identical orders in the same morning let alone back to back. But of course, on this morning it happened twice. Right behind the nicely dressed woman, an equally nicely dressed man in a double breasted, black pinstriped suit, ordered the exact same light starter to his morning.
Now I don’t know if the rest of America eats breakfast like New Yorkers do, only because who has the energy to make a “two egg omelet, with pepper jack cheese, red onions, and tomatoes,” the order from the young guy to my right, first thing in the morning? I’m lucky if I can manage to make a Carnation Instant Breakfast shake before I leave the apartment. A culinary process that entails opening the packet of powder, pouring it into a glass, and then pouring milk into that very same glass…
These delis are like finely tuned machines that only seem to get more efficient as more people fill in the lines. There are 5 or 6 guys behind the counter. All sporting tight latex gloves and all different types of hats, keeping their patrons at ease when it comes to cleanliness. A line forms in front of each of them, they shout “next” in a very soup-Nazi like voice. Nonetheless, the service is prompt, the choices are endless, and rightfully so, it is the most important meal of the day!
Thanks for listening