The floors look yellow but clearly used to be white tile, the ceilings are low and several of the fluorescent lighting implements are flickering. The already minuscule dairy department is in complete darkness. A man who should be running the deli is asleep and has prepared no food even though it's two in the afternoon. Several canned items are covered in a thick layer of dust are and just months away from their expiration dates. You hear the loud speakers, and you're using that term generously, coughing the strange off kilter shop music with what little life they have left when suddenly an overweight middle-aged Italian fellow belts out from behind you in an aggressively New York accent, "Ey wuttaya want?! You can't just stand there all day!"