Sunday, May 21, 2006

A day in the life...

Occasionally, someone comes into the Sub Shack who has never had contact with a sub. It's always an interesting experience.

Part of what makes this experience so frustrating is that people don't realize that along with ordering a sub comes a committment to answering close to thirty questions. And no, I'm not joking. You must make all the decisions. You must choose your bread, choose your cheese, choose whether or not you'd like your sub toasted, choose from about ten different toppings, sauces, salt, pepper, parmesan, cookies or chips, bottle drink or fountain drink, cash or debit...

According to the Laws of the Sub SHack, we must ask every customer each of these questions.

So, when a newcomer comes up to the counter asking for a sub, they really don't know what they're in for, until I start bombarding them with inane questions about their choices between the five different cheeses.

Occasionally I get a real bright spark who asks questions in return. My favorite response to the question "Would you like a bottled drink or a fountain drink?" is "What's the difference?"

I always feel like saying "Well, Dumbass, the difference is that one is bottled and one is from a fountain." Actually, usually I do say that, making sure to draw out certain words, and ommitting the Dumbass part.

Today a newcomer came to the Sub Shack and ordered a steak sub. He appeared to be terribly inconvenieced when I started interrupting his conversation to ask him questions about his sandwich preferences. There are, as I say, five kinds of cheese now available for your dining pleasure.

So, I asked which kind of cheese he wanted and he looked at me as though I had just discovered the extra numerals at the end of pi. He was absolutely astounded that I had at my fingertips that ability to tantalize his tastebuds with a choice between five cheeses.

So, he asked if he could have a mixture of cheese, and I said yes. I offered him the standard choices because I didn't want to totally blow him away with the above-and-beyond choices (Those being grated Monterey Jack and grated mozzarella).

Me: Would you like Swiss, Cheddar, or American Cheese?

Him: Yes please

Me: Well, there are three choices. Would you prefer Swiss, Cheddar, or American?

Him: Yes, that sounds good! Can I have both?

Me: Well, yes, you can have two kinds, but there are three available. Swiss, Cheddar, and American.

Him: Yes, I'd like both!



Me: You mean-

Him: Yes! Both of them!

Me: Great. I'll just put those right on and then go into the back and kill myself.


What's more exciting is that it seems that no one wants to work weekends this summer, so I get to do all the opening shifts for the entire summer. Which means that every weekend morning I get to get up at six to bake bread and slice vegetables. Because no one else wants to work, next Saturday and Sunday I'll be working nine hour shifts starting at seven in the morning.

This is my life.



Blogger NursePam said...

No one wants to work weekends ever. Don't ask me why. It's not as though the laws of the Universe say you can't party on Tuesday.

BTW, dumbass probably is just as dumb wherever he goes, be it the Sub Shack or the opera ;^)

9:27 a.m.  
Blogger Anastasia said...


1:56 p.m.  

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