Thursday, March 29, 2007

Eat Fresh

I went to Subway for a late lunch today and was on the verge of starvation. Standing in the long line while my stomach ate its neighboring organs, I fell into a state of reverie, pondering the more vexing details of life like why this place smells like baked feet and why the hell the chick in front of me decided to walk on her pant legs for three years instead of getting the damn things hemmed. (I’m guessing it had something to do with why she didn’t brush the cluster-fuck atop her head either.) I just love it when girls go out in public dressed like the homeless in flip-flops, but are carrying $700 purses. That shit doesn’t make any sense to me. She saved enough for the purse, but thought it would be cute to dress like a hobo and leave her feet looking like she just walked through the desert with Moses.

My disdain for the fashion debacle in front of me was disrupted by another thought. Why doesn’t subway just have a touch screen monitor to order food? Why must I try to decipher what dialect I’m being spoken in, just to order a damn sandwich? Knowing three languages has really helped in piecing together heavy accents and broken English, but there really is a limit to how much effort I’m willing to contribute to a conversation with someone who mumbles like Rocky Balboa in a foreign language. This is what happens when I wait too long to have lunch and don’t bring any snacks to get me through the day. I end up having a little less patience for things I normally would have considerable tolerance for. Thank god I don’t teach kindergarten. Some kids wouldn’t make it home.

By the time I made it to the register, I was ready to beat my sandwich specialist to death with my sub, and take a pair of scissors to gypsy girl’s pants. When I’m handed my change, I’m presented with another dilemma, do I leave a tip in their little jar? And if I do, how much is appropriate really for losing a year of my life? I’m very cognizant of how much to tip in most situations, but find myself oddly perplexed in this moment. I drop a quarter in the bucket and scuttle off before I accidentally choke someone. This better be a good sandwich. I wonder how to say that in Arabic?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Who tips at Subway? I mean get for real. They make minimum wage and most of them don't serve you with a smile. Screw that! Just let me pay for my meal which usually costs me their hourly pay anyway. At least we have a subway with a drive-thru to keep us from smelling like baked feet. LOL!!