Just such a bizarre thing to pick on as a signifier of class. Sliced deli meats? Yes, the regular guy really can never get a spot at the counter because the pesky 0.01% of America are always crowding up to the front demanding an extra pickle from the big jar. I mean, delis are one of the few places where everything being described is literally a giant, cutaway-view loaf sitting behind glass. You can just fucking point at the things you want.
