working title

Result of Working in Delis

One item can have many, many names. In my state, a sandwich on a long roll is called a “hoagie.” In some other areas, it’s called a sub (or submarine) or a hero. My family visited Virginia on vacation once and had the toughest time trying to find a place that sold sandwiches when the person we were asking didn’t understand any of those terms.

A deli is a tricky place for names. For instance, summer bologna is another name for Lebanon bologna. “Sandwich cheese” means American cheese. “Boiled ham” means cooked ham. “Minced ham” means minced bologna. The list goes on and on. If someone asks for simply “ham” or “cheese,” they mean boiled ham and American cheese. See, as I’m pretty sure I have already explained, I don’t like to assume things. I like people to be very specific, and it seems like people just don’t like to do that. They like to be vague. Maybe they want to get the wrong order, then get mad and shout at me. Maybe it’s like a stress relief for them.

I still cringe every time I hear the word “chipped” or “shaved.” I don’t mind slicing lunchmeats super-thin. That’s how I like to eat it myself. But when a customer asks for, say, two pounds of it that way, or three or four, I just hold in my breath and keep my eyes from rolling. That’s huge. Sure, the bigger grocery store chains can afford to buy automatic slicers which work on their own, but none of the places I’ve worked could afford them! And some of the places didn’t even keep their blades sharp, so I had to press down on the safety arm to get it to cut through something if it needed to be very thin. Maybe it was just me, but some customers seemed to have a funny smirk on their faces when they asked for it, too, like they knew how much I disliked doing it.

There’s a weird power-play that happens at the deli counter. Customers like being able to look at an item on a shelf, inspect it, and then put it in their carts. They take their time throughout the entire store, but when they get to the deli counter, they get impatient and upset. They don’t like that they have to ask for something, then wait for it, and then they basically have to take it when they haven’t inspected it yet. (Though we often found bags of lunchmeat throughout the store, on shelves, in freezers, even in the parking lot! Please, people, if you decide you don’t want it, just bring it back to the deli. We won’t be mad!)

I really don’t like my hands smelling like lunchmeat and onions. That’s what happens when you work in a deli, and no matter how many times you wash your hands (and the fact that you wear gloves while working), the smell won’t go away. I used to worry walking home from work when I’d pass someone with a dog. The dog would come happily running over to me, and the owner would say something like, “Oh, don’t worry, he’s friendly!” and I wanted to reply, “You don’t understand – I smell delicious!”

When you work in one department in a grocery store, you usually know very little about the other departments, and the other departments tend to close earlier in the day. So when a customer has trouble finding something or is looking for extra help with another department, instead of waiting in line up at the front of the store for an available worker, they come to the deli counter to ask us. Problem is, we’re always stuck behind the deli counter. We know very little about the rest of the store! Need to know where clam juice is? Good luck in looking for it because your guess is as good as mine! (It was almost always condiments that people would ask help in finding, too, sauces and seasonings and things).


For some reason, it is very hard to keep employees in a deli. The turnaround is insane. At one deli, we were lucky if a person lasted a week or two. Most of the time, they’d last a day or two, then just not show up for work. I started trying not to get used to people or to get close to them. There were a few that I really liked, but they never stayed at the job. Some admitted the job was too difficult for them. Honestly, I didn’t think it was that bad, just busy. I once talked with a friend who works for a different grocery store chain and she said they had the same problem with their deli. And I can’t tell you how many times I was supposed to be working with a new girl (mostly females working in delis for some reason. I think guys don’t like wearing aprons.), and the new person just didn’t show up, leaving me to cover the shift alone when it takes two people to work each shift. I guess it’s a tough job.



There are daily hazards in a deli. Thankfully, I’ve never cut myself on a running slicer! But I have received all sorts of other small cuts from knives and things, as well as burns from steam, and I’ve slammed my fingers in doors a few times, too. A deli is a dangerous environment, but the thing they try to drill into you is to not wear perfume and nail polish. Polish can flake onto food (even if you’re wearing gloves) and perfume can draw into food, too. Customer is always first, remember.

If a deli closes at 6pm, please don’t come up to the counter at 5:58pm and ask for something. It generally takes at least ten to fifteen minutes to fully clean a slicer, and we like to get out of work on time. You can either wait until the next time the deli is open or buy pre-sliced lunchmeats. Saying, “I just want one thing!” isn’t a help. Getting the slicer dirty is the big deal, because by that point, I’ve already cleaned it. Slicing something (even just one thing) makes me have to do the whole process over again. Please don’t make me have to do it.