Subway Sandwich, a Deli Delimma

iStock_submarine-sandwichMy daughter and I were watching television last night and a Subway Sandwich commercial came on.  Apparently they’re having a sale right now – something like when you buy a six-inch sub it’s $5.00 but for a quarter more you get a whole sandwich.

Daughter:  I hate it when they do this sale.

Me: Why?

Because I can never eat a whole sandwich but now if I buy a half, I feel like I’m getting ripped off. The other day I was in there and ordered a half and I felt Like the whole restaurant turned around and gasped, and then this woman ahead of me tried to be helpful and told me that for only a quarter more I could get a whole sandwich.

So what did you do?

I only got a half, but I felt like I wasted money.

So next time get the whole thing and only eat half and save it for later.

That doesn’t work, because you can’t save those.  They get all soggy in the refrigerator, and then it’s just sitting there and I paid good money for it so I feel like I should eat it even though it’s gross.

So you can either get a half and not worry that people think you’re an idiot, or get the whole thing and feel like you got a a good deal even though you’ll throw half of it away and waste perfectly good food when people are starving  in the world.

Sigh, I don’t think I can even go there anymore.

Note to Subway – your sale is too stressful.

Sequel To: They Can Hear You

To catch up, read -They Can Hear You in There

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My friend recently acquired a job at a Taco Time and she confirms our theory that yes indeed,  they can hear you in there.  Apparently she and her co-workers have heard some very interesting exchanges through the drive up speaker. Everything from family feuds erupting over menu options, to the startling details (names included) of a local celebrity’s extramarital affair.

The one  they most recently got the giggles over  was a couple ordering a Big Juan burrito

Man: “I think I’ll have one of them Big Ju-on burritos.”

Wife:“Big Ju-On? What’s a Big Ju-on?”

Man: “I think its one a’ them Spanish names, like Jo-zay.” (They think he meant Jose.)

Listen up fast food patrons of the world.  That little speaker is a two-way affair.( Sort of.) Even if no one seems to be at the other end of the crackling metal box, don’t believe it.  The whole idea is for the employee on the other end to be able to hear what’s being said in your car.

Now, does it strike anyone else as odd, that while they can often hear every word we say,  we can’t hear them? My end of a fast food conversation always sounds like a cell phone  breaking up.

Fast food employee: “Welcome to . . static, gargle, fizz . . . “your order?”

Me:  “Yes, I’d like a hamburger, fries and a drink, please.”

FFE:  “Was that a . . . feedback, strangle,  crackle . . . and a drink?”

Me: “Uh, yes – I think so.”

You never know what you’ll end up with.  Instead of mystery meat, it’s mystery meal.

Anyway, I would be annoyed by this issue, but I  think I’m on to them.  They do it on purpose.  I used to work at one of these places when I was a teen, and believe me you don’t want to hear what’s going on at their end. ( I distinctly remember my friend riding his motorcycle into the kitchen one night when the manager was foolish enough to call in sick.)  Take it from one who’s been there, when it comes to the details of fast food preparation, ignorance is bliss.

Now, I am aware that by divulging these dark secrets of the fast food world, I have made the lives of the employees vastly less entertaining.  I apologize for that, but not for this expos’e. It was something that simply  had to be revealed, and if the Wahington Post wants to take this and run with it, they have my blessing. We could call it Deep Fry, or maybe Deep Float – as in rootbeer.

Remember, they can here you in there. Beware, if you care.

Humor: They Can Hear You

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The other day I was running errands with my daughter.  We decided to make a quick stop at the local Starbucks, and pulled up to the drive-in window.  Over the intercom we heard a polite voice say, “Thank you for coming to Starbucks, we’ll take your order in a moment.” Then the speaker clicked off, and we settled in to wait our turn.

My daughter it seems has inherited my warped sense of humor, and to pass the time, she regaled me with a dead on impression of her teachers annoying throat clearing tic. I couldn’t help but laugh, and followed up with a reenactment of a co-worker’s heart stopping sneeze – I swear her head will fly off one of these times.  By now we were both laughing so hard we were crying, especially after my daughter threw in a few well-timed snorts to up the ante. Continue reading