My lady and I decided to have dinner the other night at this little mom and pop owned submarine sandwich shop called, "Subway." It is delicious, convenient, and can make you lose a couple hundred pounds if you eat there everyday like Jared Fogle. I, like most people, love a good Subway sandwich. I also, like most people, live approximately 3 steps from a Subway restaurant. My neighborhood Subway is the one I go to all the time. I'm comfortable there. I always have a pleasant experience there. The other night, I went to a different Subway. I will never do that again.
First of all, why did we decide on Subway? We live in a very big city with plenty of food options. The possibilities were endless, we could've eaten anything from Armenian to Zimbabwayan. We decided on Subway, or actually I decided on Subway, because of one very important reason... We had a coupon! Buy one 6 inch and a drink, get one 6 inch for free. That's the same as if they just handed us $3.75 in cold hard cash!
Instead of walking the one block from our home to the nearest Subway, we were on the road and decided to stop at the Subway that was on the way home. It was only a couple blocks away from our place, but we had never been. Actually, there are about fifteen Subways within a 3 mile radius of where we live. Is there a law that you must have a Subway, McDonalds or Starbucks within pissing distance at all times? We decided to stop at this particular Subway because, hey, it's Subway - they're all the same. Famous last words.
We entered the restaurant and were relieved to notice that there were only two people in front of us in line. They had even begun their order which is great news. We would be helped in no time. I mean, it's Subway - the easiest ordering in the world. Pick your bread, your meat, your veggies and you're done. Easy Peasy. I walked in and noticed the elderly man and his teenage granddaughter in line in front of us. It's always great to see family spending time together. The disheveled eighty year old being helped by his precocious young 16 year old granddaughter. Oh look, she's leaning in to explain to him what's on the menu. Poor guy probably can't see very well. Oh, she's getting closer to him. Poor guy probably can't hear very well. Oh dear god, she's kissing the senile old bastard! They are REALLY kissing!They're going at it so hard, I think she's now wearing his teeth.
I must've been real hungry because the sight of Larry King and Kendall Jenner making out didn't stop me from trying to order a 6 inch sub club on Honey Oat bread. I say "tried" to because the moment I got to the counter and opened my mouth to speak, the bread oven beeped. I don't mean a small, sligthly distracting beep. I'm talking a shrieking, ear-ringing, "there's a deadly tornado a'coming" sound that makes you need to change your pants. Here's the exchange:
Subway Lady: "What can I get you?"
Me: (about to speak)
Oven: "BEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPP!!!!"
Me: (craps my pants)
*I did not crap my pants but I did almost throw up watching Wilford Brimley and Selena Gomez play tonsil hockey.
The subway "sandwich artist" asked me again what I would like to order and once again before I could speak, the oven beeped. It's as if at that moment, I turned into a Martin Scorsese movie on TNT.
I finally got my sandwich and moseyed my way down to the cash register. Right before I was to pay with my trusty coupon, a man jumped in front of me in line. I'm not using artistic license, he literally jumped in front of me. It was as if he was double dutching with ghosts. He then asked the cashier for cookies. Didn't ask for a specific number of cookies, didn't ask for a specific kind of cookie, just asked for "cookies." It was as if he was at a bar in a low budget film and asked for a "beer." The Subway employee eventually got him to order correctly by asking, "What kind and how many?" This confused the dear fellow, so he just pointed and raised all the fingers on his right hand and just his index finger on his left. The lady, no doubt a genius mathematician, looked upon his hand offering and said, "Seven?" He corrected her by saying, "six" but not before he looked at the calloused hands in front of him and counted them.
He ordered his six raspberry cheesecake cookies to go and went off, I assume to play cookie Santa Claus with 5 of his friends. I was wrong, instead he walked outside, took a 180 degree turn, stared inside the Subway that he had just patron-ed and starting eating six raspberry cheesecake cookies, one by one. He wasn't looking inside with a creepy "I'm watching you" vibe, he stood outside and looked into the place he just came from with wonder as if to say, "How do I get inside that enchanting place?"
We finally paid for our meal and exited the god forsaken place. Of course, not before watching our favorite couple offer up a three-way with Subway's cookie monster. He, of course, accepted but not before stuffing the last two stale cookies in his desert hole. Something tells me that won't be the last yeast filled thing that enters his mouth this evening.
When we got home, I discovered the scariest thing of all. Not the wrong order. Not the moldy bread. Not the overabundance of mayonnaise. Nope, the scariest thing... They never honored the coupon. It was a true nightmare.
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