i can't remember if it was corned beef or pastrami i ordered. i know it was one of them because when i think of this i see the meat is an unnatural pink.
i had never been to new york city before and i had never heard of the carnegie deli either. i didn't know they were famous for monumental sandwiches; i was just hungry, it was late and the place was open.
i also can't remember what i said about the size of the sandwich the guy was making for me. maybe i just made a noise, or maybe i said "whoa!". i do remember a thrill of fear when he slapped down the big knife he used to cut the tower of meat and bread in half. i had made him angry i thought.
he turned, and with a whole-body gesture i'd seen in movies with "new york guy" characters-- shoulders up in an exaggerated shrug, palms flopped over facing the ceiling, chin thrust up-- implored me to "live a little!"
wow. yes. "live a little" indeed.
say yes more often. take a risk sometimes. be in the moment, don't think about whether you should or not, give yourself a treat, bite off more than you can chew.
thanks deli man, i hear you.
(for CR, whose story i borrowed)
