After being sick all weekend I decided to eat a healthier meal (compared to my normal stop at In-N-Out Burgers) to help my body recover. I remembered that guy from T.V. who lost a lot of weight eating only sub sandwiches and figured, ‘hey subs must be healthy because health aficionados usually focus first on loosing weight. I, by no means, have to loose weight but am health conscious none-the-less.

I stopped by my local sub shop and started at the front of the sandwich assembly line, safely on the other side of the protective Plexiglas installed so I won’t spread my germs to others and others won’t spread their germs to me.

I knew exactly what I wanted: a sub club sandwich. You know, the kind with three meats, cheese and whatever vegetables suit your tastes. I waited at the front of the sandwich assembly line (the place where you can select from four or five different types of breads that have different spices and who-knows-what embedded in their crusts) and watched as several of the sandwich assembly line workers scrambled around making sure they seemed busy even though I was the only one in line. I tried hard to get their attention, avoiding seeming antsy by using my voice to grab their attention, but the brim of their hats was perfect for what they were doing best.

Eventually one of them uttered something that sounded like, “I’ll be with you in a sec”, but it was hard to understand as he was saying it while looking at the floor. He walked in the back room, came back with plastic gloves on, and made eye contact with me! He didn’t even need to ask what I wanted (not that he even made an attempt to) because I was ready!

“Well, unfortunately there is only turkey sir.” Ok, turkey club it is. Vegetable time, how about some avocado mush and tomatoes? “Sorry, no tomatoes sir.” Ok, pickles. Thank you.

I was through that assembly line faster than anyone could have imagined, despite the kinks in my condiment plan. I was led to the register, to be rung up, and the cash drawer failed to open. The employee said some short muffled words, called over a fellow co-worker, and opened the stubborn drawer. I handed him a $20 and he looked at it, looked in the drawer, looked over to his co-workers and said there were only $1 bills. I quickly offered my credit card but he was quick to fix the situation by handing me a large stack of ones. In the mean time more customers had meandered in and they began to stack up quickly behind me, making no progress in the sandwich assembly line. I took the opportunity to make a joke about people thinking that I must be a stripper (because of all the $1’s in my wallet) but the girl in line behind me only laughed nervously, obviously thinking I was serious.

I had received my change, my sandwich and had my bag of chips in hand. There was only one thing missing: my soda cup. I asked for my cup and the confused employee began to look slowly back and forth, again, and then over to his co-workers. At this point I decided to enjoy this little break from everyday life and escape into my head. I subconsciously heard a co-worker quip, “Just give him the tips cup.” and suddenly found that my faithful servant had found a soda cup for me at last.

I went outside, enjoyed my sandwich, and drank my soda. Satisfied, I rolled up my trash and headed towards the trashcan. I glanced at my cup and realized that there was a hand written message on the side. Could it be a phone number from one of the female workers on the sandwich production line who had sympathized with my plight and triumph through that inadequately stocked sandwich assembly line?

NO:


Lesson learned: The internet may be the perfect forum to coerce this company to give me a free years worth of subs!

AFTERMATH: I contacted corporate and they never responded. I went back to the sub sandwich shop and told the branch manager and she acted like I was crazy. I am now boycotting the bastards.