Let me preface this by saying that I did attempt to eat here once. I ordered and went outside on my cell phone not paying any attention. Now that I live across the street, I know everything that goes on. Sometimes I walk past and stare in for a few seconds… then I take off in a nervous run-walk thing. This place is more like a «stain» then anything else. It’s sits on one of the grubbiest blocks in all of downtown. It’s sandwiched in between two payphones where dirtbaggies make their meth deals and fittinngly is located next to a «hotel». This«hotel» is really just a gigantic box of drugs with windows and rooms and lots of different garbageheads living inside. Inside the deli you’ll see the owner. He’s the only guy ever there and he has hair growing all over his ears. You can buy a stinky sandwich or a King Cobra, or shoe polish. You can get purple ham on white bread with yellow mustard and fluorescent cheese. The lettuce is shredded and it takes the old man about twenty five minutes to make it. While you wait for your artificial food, you try not to stare at the old yellow pickles swimming around the big jar of cloudy vinegar next to the register There’s always something weird going on in this place. Everyone pays with coins and crumbly dollar bills. Then there’s all the odds and ends this guy sells. Jeans, visors, pennants, playing cards, scotch tape, baby food… it’s so fuckin weird. Everything comes from Costco and it says Kirkland all over it. Is that even legal? You lean in close to a box of cookies and read«NOTFORINDIVIDUALSALE» You look up again to watch more creeps file through. Finally your radioactive sandwhich comes across the counter to you wrapped in Kirkland aluminum foil. «$ 2.98 please?» the old man says. «huh? oh here…» I only have a twenty… He has no idea what to do with my twenty, in fact, I’m not so sure he’s ever seen a twenty. I’m outta here, I left the little grub-ball on the counter and took off. Two stars, just because of the creep factor and USA Gold cigarettes poster.
