A Deli Tale: Steelers and Iron

Ferguson is the greatest living Steelers fan. He is also the drunkest living Steelers fan. He comes in most Friday nights, drunk, to order a cheesesteak. But he does not order just any cheesesteak. It is a "Steelers'cheesesteak!" He usually calls out "Go STEELERS!" several times after entering the deli. And the cooks in the back respond with a jovial, "Yeah!" "Steelers!!" or "That Roethlisberger!" When calling out his order, my coworkers have compelled me to call, "one Steelers' cheesesteak for here!" If one does not specify, he will not respond, or so I'm told.

Now, Andy and Cody come in at any time of the day or night to simply annoy us. They are my neighbors and my boss has made various deals with them which sort of exchange work with indefinite amounts of food. In keeping with this, they consider themselves borderline employees and take extra liberties as such. They make a racket while waiting for food, talk with customers with whom they are not acquainted, sell items from their school fundraisers, and generally disregard all of our censures when not given in an iron tone.

One night, Andy and Cody were waiting for their order of cheese fries. After twice telling them to keep away from the cash register, and step back from the ordering line, I was ready for more drastic measures. It so happened that Ferguson was preparing to order when I found Cody and Andy smugly angling near the register. That was it, the iron entered my voice, and I sternly called them out, "boys! If you continue to disobey my instructions I will call security! You are in a public place and you need to act like it!" They stepped back.

I looked back at Ferguson, ready to take his order, with an apologetic half-smile. He looked down, his scruffy beard wrinkling over his double chin. His bloodshot eyes looked a little shocked as he quietly ordered "just a cheesesteak." That was all. He did not yell toward the kitchen, he simply took his seat quietly, waiting for me to call out his order, at full attention.

I think Ferguson mistook my iron tone for scolding him instead of the boys, of whom he may or may not have taken notice. He has always been more subdued with me since then, though his jolly manner was greatly helped by the Superbowl results. In fact, he stopped ordering cheesesteaks after their victory, and has ordered grilled chicken sandwiches, to the great heartbreak of the cooks.