Deli Buddies are men who hang out by the deli counter in bodegas. They don’t seem to be employed by the bodegas. They never do any bodega-related work. All they do is stand near the deli counter chatting with the man who makes the sandwiches. The sandwich maker tolerates their presence, but doesn’t seem particularly excited about it.
The Deli Buddy at my favorite bodega looks like a bald, glassy-eyed version of the “It’s…” guy from the intro to Monty Python episodes.
He speaks quietly, infrequently, and in Spanish. He stands in the alcove near the Vitamin Water case, and he always seems just a tiny bit frightened.
The Deli Buddy at my second-favorite bodega is much more confident. He has a ponytail and a limp. He speaks loudly and enthusiastically, in English, with a cartoonish Brooklyn accent. He stands by the big plastic bin of hero rolls, partially blocking access to the dairy case.
This second Deli Buddy has an interesting theory, which I overheard at approximately 1:15 a.m. last Monday night. I thought I would share it with you as a public service:
It doesn’t matter how good of a fighter you are. You could be a black belt. You could be Bruce Lee. Never, ever fight a trannie, a transvestite, one of those guys who dresses up like a woman. I would rather fight 100 regular men than one of those guys. You know why? They’re super strong. They’re so confused and twisted up inside, it gives them amazing strength. Seriously, trust me. Never, ever fight a guy in lady clothes.
Now you know.
