Taking the Subway

Living in between abodes is not always conducive to healthy eating, as I've discovered. The first few days I started eating stuff at home - bagged salad, eggs, instant noodles. Then I discovered that the problem with this is dishes, and when you don't have a sponge and your dish soap is in an apartment an hour away, you can't really wash them.

So I've started eating Subway nearly daily. I always get the daily special (I am such stuff as thrift is made of) and I always eat it while catching up on my Buffy dvds. And everytime I go there, I'm more and more sure that the high school kids behind the counter are using their job as a front for other things they might do more...recreationally.

Witness, a typical exchange.

Me: Can I please have a six inch turkey breast on honey oat bread?
Kid: A six inch turkey breast?
Me: Yes.
Kid: On honey oat?
Me: Yes.
Kid: Ok. Uh, did I ask you what cheese you wanted?
Me: No. But I don't want any cheese.
Kid: No cheese?
Me: No.
Kid: Ok, um, what else do you want?
Me: Everything but jalapenos, pickles, and spinach.
Kid: Oh, wait, did you, uh, want this toasted?
Me: No, that's ok.
Kid: Ok, not toasted. Um, did you want spinach?
Me: No, no spinach.
[kid piles veggies on the sandwich]
Kid: And no jalapenos?
Me: Right.
Kid: Anything else?
Me: Honey mustard, please.
Kid: Honey mustard. Honey mustard. Dave, where's... oh, here it is.
[squirt, wrap, bag]
Kid: Anything else?
Me: No.
Kid: Do you want a meal with that?
Me: No.
Kid: That's $2.96.
[I hand him three dollars]
Kid: Your change is a nickel. Have a nice day.

A nickel! Give him a round of applause, folks.