a name as big as Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee

I always go to the deli when I don’t bring lunch to work. Even though there are five less than five minutes from me, I only go to one of them.

It’s a small Korean-American deli with a buffet bar full of Korean and American delicacies. Yet, I go there for a phenomenal chicken cutlet sandwich – chicken cutlet, cheddar cheese, bacon, and ranch dressing on a roll.

That’s my signature sandwich.

As I write, I can feel the crispy bacon’s aroma dancing in my nose. And if I close my eyes, I can taste the savory combination of flavors crafting magic. It is the best sandwich ever.

Okay, I’m lying. I exaggerate by saying the best sandwich ever.

Don’t get me wrong. The sandwich leaves me more than satisfied, but I could go to any other deli and buy the exact same sandwich, with the exact same taste, for the exact same price.

Yet, I remain loyal to the Korean-American joint. Why?

It’s because of one man. A legend in his field…

Jet Li.

If you don’t know him, he’s a Chinese actor. However, that’s a small part of his credentials. Jet Li is a legendary mixed martial artist and one of the best fighters to star on the silver screen.

Some would argue he’s one of the few that could stand their ground against Bruce Lee. Impressive, right?

Okay, so Jet Li is an iconic mixed martial artist turned actor, but you’re probably still wondering why he makes me loyal to the tiny Korean-American deli on Long Island.

Here’s why:

I bring lunch to work every day. Very rarely do I forget. Back in June, I woke up late, leaving myself no time to concoct a meal.

So, as lunchtime hit, I drove to the closest deli I could find. I tried pulling into the parking lot, but a sea of cars kicked me out.

I encountered another swarm of workers at my backup location. I didn’t have a third place in mind, so I resorted to the small Korean-American deli next door.

The food had to have been marvelous at the first two delis if everyone in town went there. This Korean-American was not the same. Only a few people were there, and I didn’t have to wait in line.

This may seem like a great thing, but it made me question whether the food was even good. But my stomach growled, and my lunch break ticked away, so I gave the place a chance.

While paying for my sandwich, an old Korean guy behind the counter stared at me for a few seconds. He threw me a peculiar look as if I were either a long-lost friend or a former enemy.

After a few seconds, he said that he could tell I was Asian. And he’s not wrong. I’m half Filipino.

Few people ever notice that about me, and it feels nice when they do. I told myself that day I’d return to the deli next time.

I went back a week later, and again, as I paid, the Korean man looked at me with the same peculiar glare. Then, he said, “Jet Li.”

I stood there flickering my eyes left and right, thinking, what the hell is he talking about?

As if reading my mind, he said, “Do you know Jet Li?”

No.

“You look like him.”

Okay, good to know. I left the deli, hopped in my car, and immediately looked up who Jet Li was.

I don’t know the man’s name, and he doesn’t know mine. But every time I order my sandwich, he greets me as Jet Li.

After a few visits, he started giving me discounts. He didn’t bless me with free lunch, but if my sandwich cost $8.99, he’d say, “For Jet Li, it’s only $8.”

Every time I go there, I feel like a superstar. To this day, I’ve never eaten at any other deli near work. I only go where Jet Li is known.

Even though I’ve only saved a few bucks over the months going there, the Korean man's rapport with me makes me return every time.

So, not only should I thank my nameless friend for the quarters and dimes I save, but I should also say thanks to Jet Li.