a color story: the overexaggerated mission back

The butcher gently sliced the briskets. Using the same knife, he scooped the slices and stacked them on top of the rye bread. The series of events looked effortless — only one could imagine the number of times… Then, he brought out the pickles and cut those in half. Oh. Woah. How was I going to pay for that? Did I accidentally order them? I panicked a little until he wrote down the sandwich price with the doctor-like scribbles. Phew. I dodged a bullet. Maybe the pickles were complimentary with the sandwich or the butcher had a long day. Or my googly eyes staring at the menu trailed a sense of authentic wonderment with the establishment and it was his way of showing appreciation. I dared not to search whether the pickles came with the sandwich. My mind was already set on the butcher’s generosity. Why retort such a kind notion? Thank you.

Grabbed. Waited. Thought. Counter. Cashed. Walked.

The hotel lobby lay at 50th street. I already walked 20, 000 steps and felt warmed up. Now, could I get this beautiful sandwich and pickles back to the hotel lobby without letting it cool down? Google Maps estimated an hour for the trip. It was time for the next walking gear. The leisure of touring a new city or exploring new territory was not enough to bring it out. In a sense, it was my nitro pack that I kept hidden in my second layer of calving muscles. Were there consequences to using this gear? Of course. Agonizing pain, PTSD, and a month-long of physiotherapy. I kid. I kid. The pain was very real.

But, why? For a pastrami sandwich and pickles? Could it be me trying to break the Pastrami Sandwich curse back in Montreal? If it did repeat, will I not travel for another five years? 

Now, I left the counter thanking. Paid out. And now I was on a mission. An hour walks back. All the way up to 50th street. While keeping the sandwich warm. without getting the pickled cooked. So I could have the pastrami experience. Without the subway. And I already walked 25, 000 steps. I had to bring in another gear. New rules applied. I knew when I stopped at stoplights, the pain of walking or the aches would kick in and ultimately lower my adrenaline. So, to keep the adrenaline, I just had to maintain the fast pace. When I saw a red light, I took the jaywalking rules to another level. If the car was turning left, from the other side, that was enough time to make the walk at my walking pace. It would annoy the shit from the opposing car. But, hey, the Kat’z pastrami sandwich was the priority. my personal safety, law-abiding behavior, or my legs were of no interest.

There was a moment when my quads and calves started to ache where I had to divest the energy into the different parts. I suddenly felt the toes roll off the floor. Hidden leg muscles started to become active. I wasn’t walking. I was rolling off the New York Streets. It was the perfect circular walking motion. Or maybe I just didn’t know how to walk. The urgency of getting the sandwich back to the hotel left a trail of new discoveries in the basic art of the walk.

Another tendency or habit I discovered through the treacherous journey was that extra kick to my step while hopping back on the sidewalk from the intersection. Although most people don’t consciously notice the elevated curb, when your walk becomes a serious exercise, just using my calve muscle i would keep up on the sidewalk. Just an extra edge so I don’t eat the dust from other pedestrians. It wasn’t like I was in a foot race with the locals. The pastrami sandwich just couldn’t get cold.

Then, others noticed. I knew I was in finance district territory when the speedy walk transformed into a light competition. An extra kick to your step they say. That was the vibe. Leaping onto the sidewalk. “What makes Sammy run?” or What made Forrest Gump run? Looking back, I wondered if they discovered that my mission was silly. Bringing back a pastrami sandwich in warm condition. Was that motive enough for one to make such serious elevation to a step. Usually, I enjoyed my slow walks, walking on a different wavelength, but at the opposing end of the spectrum, I felt the urgency — even with the silly intent. Let alone I looked ridiculous with the bench sandals from Costco with steam rising out of my body. I reached new body temperatures with the higher gear system.

Got to the hotel lobby. Gulped down the complimentary soda water at the bar. Two times. Opened the greasy wrapping of the pastrami sandwich. Took a picture for the Kakao group. Discovered the two different sets of pickles. One was fully pickled and the half pickled (had more of a cucumber crunch). And then ate the sandwich with little Soo in accompanying. We enjoyed the sandwiches and discussed whether it was worth the wait. Little did he know that there was a whole different experience just bringing back the sandwich. And yes, it was very warm.