The deli where he gets his lunch most days

Pax is the name of it, and it is, for all intents and purposes, the best cheapish food option in the area where I work, which maybe isn’t but SHOULD be notorious for it’s incredible dearth of decent cheapish food options. There are none, save Pax.
A person would be tempted to say that Pax has a very good selection; good to very good. They certainly have a lot of stuff — from salads, sandwiches, and soups, to entr�e-style plates of chicken, salmon, grilled veggies, and the like. But something I’ve just seen proves that estimator far too generous.
I am standing at the the sandwich section of the ordering counter — this was two hours ago — waiting as my order is assembled, and next to me stands a mother and her two young daughters. I imagine them to be tourists from Cleveland; at any rate their appearance suggests they aren’t from New York City. But so, when one of the very friendly, smooth-shaven, more-Spanish-than-English-speaking sandwich assemblers asks the family how he can help them, one of these little blond girls asks, hopefully, “Um, do you have baloney?” It was incredibly cute, but this is no time for reflection. The Pax man is confused; he doesn’t appear to have heard of baloney. He has the look on his face of an 8th grader who does not — simply does not — know the answer to the teacher’s question, but knows one is required, and so is kind of searching his mind with a half-expectancy inspired by his teacher’s full expectancy. The mother sagely deciphers his look, then less-than-sagely rephrases her daughter’s query, framing this second effort with an amicable, matter-of-fact, just-between-us-adults shrug and a hand gesture possibly meant to emulate a slice of baloney lying flat on a counter. She says, “Do you have any baloney?” But it works, actually, he understands her. Either the hand gesture, which firmly placed baloney in the category “flat things”, was revelatory, or the little girl’s vocal register differed by so many octaves from anything he’d heard that day that the Pax man couldn’t really hear what she said. Maybe both. Anyway, he can now confidently state that no, no baloney.
Which of course we knew all along, you and I, cuz this is a Manhattan deli. But that doesn’t make it right. And I found myself standing there very much wanting a baloney sandwich instead of the salmon and cream-cheese on pumpernickel I’d just been handed.
Email Pax at and request that they begin carrying baloney (and baloney-related products such as white bread) at their sandwich counter.