Today I went to Subway to get Tammy her lunch. Tammy’d given me her order this morning before I dropped her off at work.
About half an hour before her lunch break – knowing how busy places can be in the middle of the day – I went to get her lunch. She wanted a six-inch tuna sub on toasted flatbread with just the flatbread toasted so it didn’t get soggy.
So that’s what I ordered. Pretty simple, right?
The “sandwich artist” put the flatbread in the oven to toast it then turned around to ask me what kind of cheese I wanted.
I asked her “Does it make sense to ask me what kind of cheese I want when you have no bread in front of you on which to put it?”
The guy waiting behind me laughed once while the poor bewildered “sandwich artist” stared at me in apparent confusion.
She said “I just have to get it ready.”
“So once you pull a few pieces of cheese out, where do you plan to put them?” I asked.
“On the tuna,” she replied.
The guy behind me laughed again, a little louder.
I asked “Where’s the tuna?”
Looking at the counter in front of her, she said “On the bre … oh, yeah.”
The guy behind me left.