June 04, 2003


I love Subway. Where else is your eating experience prefixed with the question, "would you like a 6-inch or a footlong?"

Three guys were there with me. Subway-virgins are so easy to spot: they stand in front of the sneeze-guard, heads upwards staring at the vast array of choice of sandwich components. Their eyes glaze over, their jaws go slack, and time passes. You wonder if democracy really is the best choice for some people.

I caught the eye of the sandwich artist (yes, they really call them that).

"Hello! I'd like a footlong, parmesan-oregano, chicken mayo. Mozzarello. No, no extra meat. No, no extra cheese. Yes, every vegetable. Yes, all of them. Extra peppers please. Salt and pepper? Certainly? Sauce? Miracle whip, please. To take-away, thanks."

I paid, got my change, stickers, and redundant key-ring chain thingie.

As I left, the virgin trio were still deciding on their fillings.

Modesty forbade me from, uh, helping out.

  :::  a Thought ritual performed at 01:44 PM   :::   ritual observers [1]   :::  


Before you know they'll be asking if you prefer dark or white meat.

Posted by: Ryan at June 5, 2003 08:49 PM
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