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| - This was my genius idea to go here ... that's probably the *only* reason I stuck it out, and fought my way through the massive crowds of people - I wasn't going to leave without my slab of' high fat bacon and half a pound of Pastrami.
I didn't want to leave when my boyfriend gave me 'that look' ... I was going to show him that this place was awesome! .. errr .. right?!!??
Don't bother taking a number.
Screw the number system. They don't follow it!
There I was, with my little piece of paper, stating I was number 83. I looked up up up above the very tall deli counter, at the number machine letting me know that the last number they served was 71. This seemed like a farce. hmm ....
After a few minutes of standing politely, waiting for my number, realizing it wasn't going to happen when the 'meat women' behind the counter yelled out, 'ANY NUMBER ANY NUMBER!', and people started to storm the counter, shoving THERE little paper numbers into there hands.
BOO!
That was it!
It's fighting time!
I sent my 6'6" boyfriend into the mess of people, where he quickly got served.
This is one place where height is a pure advantage. And size. If you're big & tall, and can shout, you'll get served much quicker than the 'polite & wait' sorta person.
So, finally, after 15 minutes of waiting (which obviously wasn't necessary), and $10 later, I had a lb of shaved Pastrami and half a pound of yummy, fatty bacon.
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