TIP : yo b**ch make me a sandwich!

My best friend Pam and her boyfriend Terry came to visit me recently. Both had been to NY before, but this time I wanted them to get under the skin of the city, see what it was really like to live here minus the Empire State building, the Statue of Liberty and the broadway shows. So I made them a form to fill out, with tasks to complete and some 'games' to play. I called it 'New York Navigation for the Non-Tourist'.

Here's an example of a task:

"Buy a sandwich at a deli – must do this at lunchtime and preferably in mid-town (ie 30s-50s streets) [Tip: good luck if you don’t know what you want…] Describe your experience here -..."

So one afternoon, Pam and Terry go to some deli (for those who've never been to NY, delis are typically places to get a quick lunch - choose-your-own filling sandwiches, coffee, munchies, cigs, etc. They're also places that have a million people at lunch time). So Pam and Terry go to a random deli in mid-town (guaranteed lots of business-y people in a hurry) to grab a bite. Bearing in mind the tip I gave them (how helpful am I?) Pam goes up to one of several counters to see what she wants in her sandwich. Trouble is, there are a million things you can put in your sandwich. There's also a queue and...well, you'd better know exactly what you want if you're in it..or you'll be told to STEP ASIDE. Loudly. By the server AND by everyone else around you.

Before she can blink, Pam's number is up - the server is yelling 'NEEXXXTTTT??' right in her face. Not knowing what the hell to have (egg, cheese, ham, pastrami, mushrooms, daffodils, whatever) Pam takes the plunge, points at something that could be tuna, turkey or boiled brain, and politely asks what it is. The server's reply - .."sjhiairefncbrbvt". At this point there is already a low rumble growing in the queue and she can feel the impatience swelling like a giant thought-bubble behind her...a bubble about to burst in her face...

So she panics, shouts "OK, I'LL TAKE IT!" and dashes forward, praying that it was actually tuna that she ordered and not mashed armpit scrapings. Meanwhile Terry who's right behind her is freaking out and yelling, "Whadjyouget? Pam? Is it seafood? WHADJYOUGET?? Hah? Seafood?? WHAT? Help! Oh no, its my turn, SHIT!!.." (note: Terry is severely allergic to shellfish)

Pam, who at this point is only interested in paying up and getting out as fast as she can, yells back sympathetically "I donno!! I really donno!!DAMN STRESS MAN!! FEND FOR YOURSELF!!"

Thankfully, this story has a happy ending.

The sjhiairefncbrbvt turned out to be chicken for both of them and hours of rolling around laughing my ass off for me.

Leighzy Pages Tip of the Day: if you go to a New York deli at lunch time know what you want in advance. There is no time, I repeat, no time to hem and haw over the egg mayonnaise versus the turkey breast with pickles. don say i never tell you ah.

*for Americans: Queue=Line