Life in the Deli

(This isn't 100% exactly what happened, but is as close to the conversation as I vaguely remember.)

Yep, still hating my job in the deli. It's tough to work somewhere that you know you can't rely on most of you team for assistance. Such is life in modern times.

But, a new man came in today. He was about my height, 5'10". Gray hair that had been black at some point in his past. Total daddy. Slim.. well, mostly slim. He had a lean figure, but a gut that bulged over his belt like he was nine months pregnant and ready to pop with the way his shirt was hugging his gut. Totally my type of man, thank God. He was like someone out of one of my stories.

He wanted some turkey and ham sliced, so I happily obliged. He ordered a pound of both, and by the way he kept a hand on the lower curve of his gut, I figured it was all for him. As I bagged and tagged the sliced meats I noticed he was eyeing or salad line a bit intently.

Now, when I say "salad line" I'm not just making your typical veggies and such, I'm meaning meatballs, lasagna, macaroni, potatoes, and a few foamy jello desserts. It's a deli, of course we have all this.

As I handed over the sliced meats I stated, "I was gonna ask if that was all for you today, but I see you eyeing the salad line. Is something catching your eye?"

He gave a chuckle as he scooted his way over to the salads and said, "it all looks so good. But I shouldn't."

I replied, "you sure? We just got some new salads up. The bacon and cauliflower salad is one of my favorites. Plenty of veggies, with a small amount of bacon."

"Oh man, that sounds good." He replied, and I noticed his hand never left his gut. He drummed his fingers on its surface a few times before he said, "okay, give me a large cup of that. It's healthy, right."

I just smiled as I began serving up the container. "I'd say its healthy. It's mostly veggies, with very little bacon."

"Good, I need a balanced meal." I handed over the cup and he was about to leave, but paused again. Staring at our dessert salads.

"Uh oh, something else catch your eye?"

"Yeah, how's that pistachio delight and the ambrosia salad?" He turned and practically pushed his gut against the glass.

"Our pistachio delight is actually our most popular salad. But my personal favorite is the ambrosia, as it has little mandarin oranges in it. I love those."

He only grunted in approval, at least I hope it was approval, because he offered a small cup of pistachio and a large cup of the ambrosia. His only comment being, "oh man, my waistline is a gonner."

I heard it and got so excited. I decided to take a chance. "No offense, but I'd say it's already been made a victim of your eating." I said this with a smile and tilt of my head, to show him that I was just being silly. But he gave a big hearty laugh and gave his bulbous gut a pat.

"Yeah, ya got me there. I've been meaning to start my diet, but keep procrastinating." He chuckled again.

"Well, how about this," I stepped over to our hot case which held our fried chicken, chicken strips, potatoes wedges, and oven baked chicken. "If you keep procrastinating, might as well splurge and start tomorrow, right? You're a hungry guy, you gotta satisfy growing needs, especially when our fried chicken is on sale for the next two weeks."

He stared at the fried chicken in the case, as he did I watched him give his belly another pat, and then rubbed it in a gentle slow circle, then two, then three. Before finally, "alright, what the hell. One more night is indulging myself isn't going to hurt."

The key words of the last part of that sentence were like music to my ears.

"Give me a twelve piece fried chicken."

I was hoping for an 8 piece bucket. But was surprised to hear 12. I didn't hesitate to fill the bucket and hand it over.

"There ya go. You enjoy yourself and have a great day. I hope to see you again soon." I said the last part with a flick of my brow and hoped he caught my message.

He grabbed all the food he ordered, "thanks. I hope you have a great day as well. Who knows when or if I'll be back."

"Well, you know where to find me and our chicken. Two weeks, don't forget."

"Trust me," he used one hand to heft his gut a little, "I won't." With that, he left. I couldn't help but smile as he went. Not to mention the amazing ass he had. He must have worked out often, though not to get rid of the gut. I hope I'll see him again.

I can't help but think.. no, hope.. that he is sitting with his belly peeking from his shirt, and pants open as he scarfs down all the food he bought and sandwiches he hopefully made with the sliced meat. Hopefully he's got one hand bouncing between his cock and belly, while he uses his other hand to shovel more of the food in. I really hope to see him again.