The Deli Lama

My thrice weekly meat runs to the local deli have drawn unwanted attention to me from one of the butchers employed there. He's taken a bit of a shine to me since (as he put it) Tony rhymes with bologna and this fact alone is enough to link* us (in his mind) in some sort of Pat Morita/Ralph Macchio-fashion.

Now every visit is a deluge of his bits of wisdom, anecdotes, mantras, clinches and other Butcher-esque Martial Arts maneuvers** as I try to speedily select my next batch of luncheon meat and get the hell out of there.

It's beginning to disturb me and I find myself wondering if it might be high-time to switch delis or return to purchasing pre-packed Oscar Meyer brand meats at the relatively safer local supermarkets (where I have never been 'adopted' by an employee in a delusional mentor-ship...as far as I can recall).

Leaving the deli after my last trip I was sent away with this pearl of wisdom yelled in my direction as I crossed the shop's threshold:

Sleeping in the nude is like eating a pastrami sammich when all ya wants is a Ham Stacker, y'know? Keep that in mind, why dontcha? And don't forget to keep practisin' yer moves! There's a lot of evil in the world and a meat-wielder like yerself has gotstah stay safe...

What the hell does this mean?

Makes me (foot) long for the days when the closest thing I had to a sensei was the Mobile Hot Dog Vendor that worked downtown.
He didn't seem to relish the role as much as this weird-ass butcher.

And he Never called me at home...

T

*His words were, "we're linked like pork sausages, youse and me...from here on in youse me ward."

**I am especially fearful of the 'Ham, Bam...Thank you, Ma'am,' the Karate Pork Chop and the 'Turkey Lam-baster.' Ouch.