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There's nothing like
a build-you-own-sandwich joint. Okay, they don't let you behind the
counter or anything, but you can essentially choose your ingredients
and cheese and bread and whatnot and they'll make you a sandwich.
Actually, that sounds suspiciously like a deli, but what the hell
do I know? So what we're talking about here is an upscale deli that
employs glass partitions and a clean floor in order to jack up prices
to astronomical levels. My fresh turkey sandwich on a nice, soft roll
wasn't outrageously expensive, and was actually pretty tasty, but
a co-worker decided to order soup and sandwich and paid like eighteen
dollars. I swear I thought he was gonna firebomb the place. Instead
he just swore a blood oath to never go back, and threatened to kill
me in a terribly painful manner if I ever stepped foot in the place.
Granted, I've never been back, and no longer work nearby, but maybe
someday my travels will take me back to the tourist pit that is Eighth
Ave., and I will duck into this den of sin for another lusty afternoon
with my deliciously roasted fowl friend. [MF]
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