Short Verses Tall Orders

I backtracked to a family operated deli that I frequented as a hungry teenager. I recognized the middle-aged woman behind the counter who took my sandwich order. With her apron covered wide back to mine, I remembered that I knew her from high school. She was the daughter of the shop owners. A quick study determined that she had not aged gracefully. Assuming she was just filling in for the day, I decided to catch up on old times. There was so much to talk about.

I inquired for openers, “I haven’t seen you in eons, what have you been doing with yourself?” She turned around and looked up at me from a bed of shredded lettuce. Her face changed to a pathetic look. “Making hoagies six days a week for the last 25 years leaves little time for anything else. How about you?”

She summed up her life with shreds in her hands. I did not know what to say. I lied and answered, “Nothing, really. Same old, same old.”

While waiting for my hoagie to be made, I started to think about the meaning of life. I carve my life with an ice pick to shape it and get the most out of it. She looked like she wanted to take the knife slicing tomatoes in hand to her throat.

A few minutes later, I paid her the money due with a tight smile. I picked up my brown-bagged order and before hitting the doors I squeaked, “You sure make the best hoagies here.”

Someone famous recommended inventing yourself every seven years. It was a tall order that she could not fill.