YW Obit: Grapevine Deli (88th and Amsterdam Deli)

When I was 16 and wasn't old enough to buy Steel Reserve, you were there for me. When I was 17 and on my way back from the Haze Spot in need of a peach White Owl, you were there for me. At 4:30 AM when I and needed a Salsalito turkey on a hero with lettuce, tomato, onion, muenster cheese, oil & vinegar and hot sauce--you were there for me. You were always there for me. Your prices remained steady, as did your constant flow of crack heads and young ruthless thugs. I always felt safe around you knowing that somewhere behind the counter there was a double pump action shotgun, ready to take the head off any troublemaker who dare mess with a white customer. I forgave you for your faults. When you hired the B and C-teams to make my sandwich, as opposed to Achmed, the former ace in the hole and now unemployed best sandwich maker on the Upper West. When you raised the price of a Brooklyn Lager six-pack from $9 to $11 overnight, I knew it was for the best. When you accidentally carded me that one time, I should have spat in your face, but instead I politely whipped out my license and said, "You must be the new guy, welcome to 88." I was always welcome at 88, and for that, I think I speak for most of the degenerate Upper West Side in saying, thanks. Thanks for being you. With the closing of your deli dies not only a legendary bodega, but an era. An era of recklessness, good food, cheap beer, bogies, blunts and good times. We'll miss you.

Sincerely,
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