Sometimes patience is the only way to go. And when you rush there are consequences.
So it was on Wednesday. I stopped in for a sandwich at a market somewhere west of Concord and east of Keene. For once, I was running early and my body was crying out for liverwurst. To some a gross meat, I know. To me, it’s one of the great delicetessen offerings.
I strode to the uncrowded counter and pulled out one of those order slips where you circle the bread, meat, vegetables, cheese, and condiments that you wish to claim as your individual permutation of the sandwich universe.
I noticed despite the lack of any visible customers, the lady brhind the counter was a bit harried. She made one sandwich and then another, and another . Each one took considerable amount time to construct. She trembeled as she rushed. She held up her index finder and indicated nervously, one more…”then yours, hon.” I had been patiently standing and waiting for a while now and my earlyness was slipping away.
She darted about and opened the cold chest. She pulled out a big hunk of roast beef. She went over to the big gleaming stainless steel circular slicer. And immediately, she cut her finger. I heard her quietly exclaim, “damn it, stupid.”
Couldn’t help it, I thought about my liverwurst. Yes, I felt bad for her, but was there going to be an extra bloody ingredient that I hadn’t ordered.
I gave up and walked up to the counter and grabbed my sandwich permutation ticket — deciding that my want for liverworst was less than my taste for blood. Plus, she if she was rushed before with two hands, she certainly would be going even a good bit slower with one-ish hand. Even so, she appeared to be undaunted and kept working away even while holding one hand wrapped in her apron.
Just as I was turning away from the counter, a young woman appeared to be coming to help take up the slack. She said who’s next? Yeah! I was back in business!
The other woman quietly exited stage right muttering under her breath “stupid, stupid, stupid.”
The new woman, with my order in hand, her not bloody hand, sliced the liverwurst: great one and a half inch slices. This doesn’t sound like much.
Dear reader, please do this for me. Take your right hand and extend your index finger and middle finger together. Thank you.
This is how thick the slices of liverworst were. I immediately thought, “Yow! Too much of a good thing.”
I said, “miss, could you make those a bit thinner, like by, one third.”
She said “Oh my, yes. I don’t know what I was thinking, I was rattled by the sight of blood.”
And she finished making the sandwich calmly and wrapped it up and handed it to me. $2.50.
What a deal for all that drama. And a great one it was.
Lets all take a moment snd think good thoughts for the ones who rush. And especiallyo
Pp the one who cut herself. I hope she is ok.