My retarded Subway

The Subway Sandwich shop across the street from my home was one of the nicest ones I’ve ever seen: plasma television, gas fireplace, arm chairs, bistro tables. Which is all rather ironic seeing as how it is located in the crummy Travelodge.

Months ago, the Subway got robbed. At 11 on a Sunday morning.  There are three churches directly across the street, so I’m sure there were plenty of people around. Then, a few weeks later, the Subway was robbed again.  A Sunday morning again if I remember correctly.Recently the Subway installed what I can only assume is bullet-proof glass. However, the glass only protects the area behind the food. It stops several feet from the cash register. If the bullet proof glass is meant to protect the employees, it is probably actually doing the opposite. If an armed robber comes in, and the employees run behind the glassed-in area to hide, it is likely going to piss off the robber. If he is prone to violence, a single pane of bullet-proof glass is not going to stop him.  Using the simple laws of physics, all he has to do is reach his gun around the side of the glass near the register.

Besides the stupid idea that it might stop a robbery, the glass also makes it nearly impossible for the employees to understand the customers’ orders. Customers have to yell, and the more customers there are, the more yelling there is.  It doesn’t help that most of the employees seem to have a difficult time with English to begin with.

“What can I get for you?”

“Just a minute, I’m thinking.”

“Did you say chicken teriyaki?”

“No, I said just a minute, I’m thinking“

“Chicken teriyaki?”

“No, I haven’t made up my mind yet. I’m still trying to decide what I want.” A moment later, “OK, I’ll have a footlong chicken teriyaki on honey oat.”

“No, we have no more honey oat.”

“Ummm… OK, I’ll have it on whole wheat.

“She starts to put American cheese on, without asking.

“No, no American cheese. I want Provolone.”

“No cheese?”

“Yes, cheese. Provolone cheese. Take off the American cheese.”

“Do you want it toasted?”

“No.”

“Toasted?”

“Not toasted.”

“Toasted?”

“No, I do not want my sandwich toasted.”

“Okay, what do you want on it?”

“Lettuce.”

She puts lettuce on it.

“Tomato.” I point to the sliced tomatoes. She reaches for the second bin of lettuce.

“Lettuce?”

“Tomato. Olives. Green peppers.”

“Pepperoni?”

“No, I said Green peppers. Red pepper relish.”

“Red pepper relish? I don’t know what that is.”

I point to the red pepper relish. “Oh, you mean red pepper sauce!”

Uuuuaaaaggghh!!!