Every Conversation I've Ever Had at Subway

Happy 225th, America! I hope you all enjoyed your 4th of July festivities as much as I did. But the holiday is over, and it's business as usual for folks around the country, including myself. I don't typically talk about it, but aside from the occasional acting gig, I'm also a Sandwich Artist™, meaning I make sandwiches at Subway.

I don't mind my job. I really don't. I don't want to do it forever, but a job is a job is a job. And I make a good sandwich. Even before I harbored my skills at Subway, my siblings noted me for my sandwich-making skills. But with the good comes the bad, and despite what modern consumerism would have you believe, there are bad customers. The customer is not always right. And to add to the crap-stack, here in Utah, we have a drive-thru. A drive-thru at Subway? Doesn't that defeat the purpose? I myself always enjoyed seeing people make it fresh. If nothing else, it assured me they weren't desecrating my food. That's assurance you don't typically get at Burger King or Taco Bell, or any other fast food restaurant. So, I'm going to take you through the average day ofa Sandwich Artist™. Enjoy. And eat fresh.

(he used to be fat, now he's just ugly and he's getting paid to eat sandwiches! the American dream)

(enter abnormally skinny 19-year-old with an obnoxiously overweight high school-aged girlfriend. He is dressed in baggy pants and a "hatchet man" hat; she is dressed in an inappropriately tight shirt and sweatpants that read "BABY DOLL" across the buttocks)

me: "Welcome to Subway, how are you today?"

Juggalo: (apathetic upward nod) "'Sup."

me: "What can we get for you today?"

Heiffer: "I want a foot-long, double-meatball on white with provolone, mayonaise, pickles, and parmesan."
me: (laughing hyterically in my mind, but maintaining a façade of indifference) "Alright, would you like the extra cheese that comes with double meat?"
Heiffer: "No, I'm trying to watch my weight."
me: (I feel my face crack, but only momentarily) "Okay. And what for you?"
Juggalo: "I just want a ham foot-long on white with American cheese and extra mayo."
me: (applying the mayo)
Juggalo: "More mayo, please."
me: (applying the mayo)

Juggalo: "More."

me: (by this point the mayo bottle is empty and I grab another from the back and begin applying more until he says...)

Juggalo: "Okay, that's good. Just some olives and it's done."
me: (as I close the sandwich, mayo oozes out, and I gag slightly. But I'm a professional, so I regain my composure and charge them for their food and they're on their way) "At least he wasn't a Nickelback fan."

(enter douche bag. Everything about him reeks of douchiness. He's wearing a Nickelback T-shirt and a Green Bay Packers hat, and smells strongly of Tag body spray. He's also talking loudly on his cell phone and holding up the line)

me: "Hello, what can we get for you today?"

Turd: "Hold on a sec." (continues talking on his phone, presumably to a girlfriend with low intelligence and low self-esteem)

me: "..."

Turd: (hanging up his phone) "Yeah, I'm gonna need 10 sandwiches."

me: "..."

Turd: "The first one is gonna be..." (carries on this way, giving dangerously specific directions on each of the ten sandwiches. If we're lucky, only one or two customers leave as he orders)

me: "Alright, your total is $78.90."

Turd: "Whoa! Hey, now! I got the five dollar foot longs!"

me: "Very true. However, you got them with double meat and extra cheese."

Turd: (paying with his girlfriend's credit card) "Pfshk! (enter expletive). This is lame."

me: "I totally agree."

Turd: (after finishing payment) "Wait, can I get those points on my Subway card?"

me: (screaming obscenities in my mind)

(enter Asian tourists, probably Japanese, none of which speak intelligible English. As I wonder what there is to possibly see in rural northern Utah, the one who speaks the most Engrish, which isn't much, procedes to order)

Tourist: "Turahkay."

me: "Uh, can you repeat that?"

Tourist: "Tu-rah-kay."

me: (blank expression) "I'm sorry?"

Tourist: (points at turkey)

me: "Oh! Turkey! I apologize!"

Tourist: (spends the next ten minutes pointing and translating. Even with the pointing, I have a hard time understanding. It doesn't help that I'm partially deaf)

(enter entire family. We're in Utah, so you can rest assured it's a big family. The cavalry is led by the mother, followed by a gaggle of children, ages 10 years to 1o minutes, often accompanied by an apathetic father, and sometimes accompanied by geriatric grandparents)

Mother Goose: "We need 7 kids meals."

me: "Alright, on white or wheat bread?"

Mother Goose: "Let's see, there's a white, two wheat, three white, a white, and a wheat."

me: "... So, that's... five white and three wheat?"

Mother Goose: "Is that what I said?"

me: "Essentially, yes."

Mother Goose: "Then yes."

(each kid takes far too long to say what they want, although they're all pretty much the same - pickles and olives and mayo, sometimes with lettuce and tomato)

me: "Okay, so will those be kid's packs or just the sandwiches?"

Mother Goose: "Kid's packs."

me: "Apples or yogurt?"

Mother Goose: "Don't they come with chips and a fountain drink?"

me: "Nah, it's apples or yogurt and their choice of milk, chocolate milk, strawberry milk, or fruit punch."

Mother Goose: "Can't we just get chips?"

me: "I'm afraid we can't. I'm sorry about that."

Mother Goose: (looking at me as though I farted in church) "Sigh... fine, tell them what you want."

Gosling #3: "But I want cookies!"

Mother Goose: "You can't! You heard what the man said!"

Gosling #3: (looks at me as though I shoved him in the mud)

me: "..."

Mother Goose: "Hurry! Tell him!"

(as I get ready to charge her, she says...)

Mother Goose: "Okay, we've got three more sandwiches."

me: "..."

(typical drive-thru order)

me: "Thank you for choosing Subway, what can we get for you today?"

Drive-Thru: (long, awkward pause)

me: "Son of a..."

Drive-Thru: (yelling) "I need two footlongs on white..."

me: "Will they be made the same?"

Drive-Thru: "...What?"

me: "Your sandwiches. Will they be made the same way?"

Drive-Thru: "...Yes."

me: "Okay, and what will they be?"

Drive-Thru: "Foot long. Spicy Italian. Wheat bread. Swiss cheese..."

me: "We don't carry Swiss at this store. We have provolone, American, pepperjack, or shredded monterrey cheddar."

Drive-Thru: "...I want Swiss."

me: "We don't carry Swiss."

Drive-Thru: "...Provolone, then. With mayo, mustard, vinegar, oregano, everything but tomatoes, pickles, and onions..."

me: "Including jalapeños?"

Drive-Thru: "..."

me: "..."

Drive-Thru: "No jalapeños!"

me: "Okay, then. Anything else for you today?"

Drive-Thru: "A large Mountain Dew."

me: "We carry Coke products."

Drive-Thru: "...Nothing, then. And can one of those be toasted?"

me: (I slap my head, as both sandwiches are already done) "...Yes."