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Not What It Looks Like

Danny was my first supervisor and the biggest influence on me as I became a manager myself.  I have already written a few times about him, starting with my first day as his employee.

Although Danny taught me a whole lot about how to run a business and supervise people, he made mistakes, just as we all do. Of course, witnessing those situations were just as educational for me as watching him do the right things. There was one day, however, when Danny’s error ended up with me looking like a fool.

One of the essential categories of food sold at Dave’s Deli were salads such as cole slaw, potato salad (with or without egg), cucumber salad, fruit salad and the like. They were all displayed in an enclosed refrigerated display case, with the salads held in bulk within shiny silver tray-like bins. Customers could buy the product in any amount they wished, usually a half pound or pound. One of the deli men or I would ladle out the amount of whatever salad was requested into a round sturdy paper container on the top of which fit a top, also made of reinforced paper. We would write the price on top of the lid in black marker.

The cole slaw and the potato salads were the most popular, and they were supplied to the deli by a Philly-based purveyor. We received the salads in 25-pound portions, which were contained within very strong plastic bags. The bags themselves were transported and delivered in round, shiny, sealed, golden-colored cans that stood about a foot and a half high and were non-returnable. An essential part of the story I am about to share revolves around those shiny cans. Danny put them to use as mini trash cans placed on the employee side of the various display cases and counters that ran the length of the store. It was my job at the end of every day to empty those cans and throw away the ones that had become soiled. There was no need to conserve them as there were always more coming in to replace them.

Dave’s Deli catered to the local middle class Jewish community. I often heard customers talking about going to the synagogue, and Danny or his wife Sandy sometimes mentioned it too. Although various Jewish sects dress in a certain manner and men wear their hair or beards in a particular way, there was little of that in evidence among the clientele at Dave’s. So, it was a bit unusual when the front door opened one day, and a very elderly man with a long white beard and dressed in flowing black robe-like attire entered.

There were no other customers in the store at that moment. Both Danny and I saw him immediately from about twenty feet away. He was moving very slowly and wobbly.  Every few steps he would stop and reach out to whatever was nearby to steady himself. Had he been a younger person, we would have assumed that he was inebriated.  But it was clear to us that his advanced age was the cause. He appeared a bit confused and sort of puzzled as he looked about his surroundings.

I wasn’t sure what to do. Since Danny was right there, I expected him to take care of it. For some reason, he didn’t. Then the man’s tottering came to a halt in front of the salads display case. He spread his legs a bit, then awkwardly slide his hand under his robe down near his groin.  He still had that confounded look on his face. We could see his hand moving about under his garment.

Danny declared in alarm, “He’s going to piss in the store! Take a can out there, Joey!”

So, I grabbed one of the golden cans from behind the counter and sprinted to the ancient customer and held it in front of him.

I arrived just in time to see him pull his wallet out from under his clothing. That is what his hand had gone in search of! If he was confused previously, he was even more perplexed now to see me standing in front of him with a 25-pound can waiting for his anticipated urine.

Luckily, Danny was now there with me. He saw the wallet, too, and took over the situation.

“Welcome, young man!  What can I get for you?”

“I want some lox,” the man mumbled and off they moved, slowly, to the fish counter.

I disappeared in the other direction, with the golden can in my hands and embarrassment written across my face. Danny and I had both jumped to an incorrect conclusion. My only solace was that there was not a store-full of customers to witness my actions.