Lunch Is Hell

I couldn't decide what to get for lunch today. I was already in the Longwood Galleria, but I wasn't in the mood for my usual Sami's falafel and tabooli combo, so I decided to get something from Subway. I really should know better. The line seemed short, but it took me five or six minutes to escape with a small tuna sandwich.

I'm fairly confident that hell is going to turn out to be very much like waiting in line at a Subway. There are five or six people behind the counter, and at first it appears that each one has a specific task to do as part of the assembly-line preparation of your sandwich. The first person gets the basics: what you want, and what kind of bread you want it on (they have five kinds, in case you haven't been in a Subway in a while). And that person always asks, "Do you want cheese on it?" Did I ask for cheese on it? But see, "with cheese" is the default setting, unless you say otherwise. At least they ask, right?

But in reality, chaos reigns. Everyone is running around and bumping into each other and talking to each other all at once. Meanwhile, your bare, open sandwich sits there on the counter while one person is refilling the bins of onions and lettuce instead of moving your order along, and you're standing there thinking (hopefully not aloud, for your sake) MAKE MY FUCKING SANDWICH, YOU MORON.

Eventually my food got the attention of the person whose job is to add the toppings. Now, I have to be honest, one of the things I do like about Subway is the variety of stuff you can get on your sandwich. Most places have lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and maybe pickles. Subway has cucumbers, several varieties of peppers, and olives. I love olives, especially on tuna, so this pleases me. Also, they have all these sauces, like teriyaki and sweet onion. These are just salad dressings, a trick I've used on home-prepared sandwiches for decades, but they do add to the overall sandwich flavor experience.

However, an abundance of toppings doesn't excuse or make up for poor service. Just as my sandwich was about to be passed to the cashier, a rather hefty woman slid up on the other side of me and distracted the person at the register. "I just want six cookies." The cookies are in a little plastic case in front of the register, so I guess that means if you just want a cookie (or six, you pig), you don't have to wait in line like everyone else. How convenient for you.

I'm trying to eat more sensibly these days, and about the only reason I even go there at all is because their small sandwich, on a 6" roll, is just enough food for lunch. But it's just not worth the trouble, because I'm afraid I could end up murdering someone while waiting for my 6" tuna sub, and I suspect a prison diet would be very starchy.