For a long time (I say a long time, but now that I think about it, it was only a month or so. But that's a long time in deli time.) there was a counter girl at the deli who was young and cute with short hair, but a little too feisty for her boss. I never knew what they were fighting about, but she and the manager (maybe owner?) were always going at it about something. Was it the way she gave out change? How much sugar she put in the coffee? I'll never know.

She had a slight accent, that made me think she was from the Caribbean. She had a beauty mark on her cheek, and tan skin. She told me she lived in Harlem, and it took her a long time to get to work. She also told me once that she and her boyfriend had broken up, this last fact revealed on Valentine's Day.

She wished me a "Happy Valentine's Day," and I had grunted, "Yea right, whatever." And then she spilled her guts, that they had split, but it didn't matter, we could still have a good day, couldn't we? I thought her optimism was sweet, while at the same time I sort of thought she might be an idiot. I liked her mostly, except when she talked too much. I ended up feeling guilty for not talking as much as her, not interacting, not communicating.

She was so nice that she assumed I was sick when I was merely cranky, and for days after I was particularly miserable to her, she would continue to ask me if I was feeling better. I ultimately had to remind myself that there aren't too many perks to working in a deli. Customers who are kind, free coffee all day long, and the paycheck at the end of the week. Was it my responsibility to give back a little bit? She always remembered I wanted hazelnut coffee, and I never had to remind her how I took it. Mostly I was nice, I think. I hope.

And then, suddenly, she was gone. Just when she and I had developed a nice rhythm, a good little coffee and chit chat relationship, she was banished, perhaps to a deli crosstown. I imagined that her boss had "had it with her lip," or something like that. How could she be so sweet and polite to me and then be fired? I wouldn't ask about her though. It's not like I knew her name or anything.

In her stead was a larger, older, decidedly less cute woman, who, oddly, had the exact same haircut as her predecessor, a small scoop around her head. She appeared to be of Indian descent, and also like she was related to the boss man, so I think it was a pure case of nepotism. And we, the customers, were powerless. Who was this guy, employing a relative of his in a small retail operation in New York? Scandalous! Who would have imagined such a thing!

Anyway, she's still working there, every morning, and she's far slower than the last counter girl. It took her at least a month to remember my order, but once she nailed it, she refused to let it go. And by nailed it, I mean she remembers that it's a hazelnut coffee. The "milk, one sugar" part still eludes her; she asks me every time how I take it. And forget about getting the napkin with it. If I ask her for one she looks at me blankly, and I have to repeat myself. So I've stopped asking. I don't want to pain her.

Here's the kicker though: It's summertime now, and I don't drink hot coffee in the summer. They don't have iced hazelnut, only iced regular coffee at this deli, and anyway, it doesn't matter, she doesn't want me to have iced coffee at all, she only wants me to have hazelnut. I'm not allowed to mix it up, see. I tried asking her a couple of times but she didn't like it at all, got flustered, and then grudgingly gave it to me. It was too much, too much responsibility for her happiness, for the regularity of her life, and I just can't, I can't do that again, get into another relationship like that just to have it destroyed. Do you know how much goes into that? Do you?

So I've started going to the internet cafe. They don't give a shit what I order there as long as I agree to pay their ridiculous prices. I figure if I go back to the original deli in a month she'll have forgotten what I ordered in the first place, and we can start all over from scratch. We'll be good at least until the fall.

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