…And a Liter o’ Cola

English: A SUBWAY Club 6" sandwich.

This evening, after much deliberation, I drove across our tiny town to the local Safeway to get Brad and me a couple of their delicious deli sandwiches for dinner. Surprisingly, the deli counter wasn’t busy at all. The woman working there took my order, which was straight off the very basic menu board, and started getting stuff out to make them. I asked her if the bread was really hard (because Brad doesn’t like mouth-ripping sandwich bread), and she said no, it was a soft sourdough roll. She even showed me one she was going to use. Then she had to go help someone with something, so she called her young coworker over to make my sandwiches. This young girl/woman immediately looked bewildered.

“What kind of bread did you want on your sandwich?” she asked in that forced, friendly-ish customer service voice that pretty much conveys the sentiment, this is how I have to talk to you, but I don’t care if you get hit by a bus as soon as you leave here.

“It says it comes on a sourdough roll on the menu there, so I’ll go with that,” I said, sensing trouble but trying to smile and sound upbeat and cheerful.

She looked over at the older lady, who rolled her eyes, shook her head, and otherwise ignored her while helping the other people, so she just stood there looking confused for a moment and then looked at me and pronounced definitively, “We don’t HAVE sourdough rolls.”

…at which time, before I could inform her that yes, they did have sourdough rolls, and I had seen one, the other woman sighed with exasperation, left the other people, and came back over and showed her the sourdough rolls. “Get another one for her if that one feels stale,” she told the young deli chick, who just looked lost and waved the bread around aimlessly for a few minutes before starting to ask me what kind of sandwich I wanted again.

…at which time I interrupted her and said, “You know what? I think I’ll just go away and come back later, when SHE has time to make my sandwich. I just don’t have a lot of confidence right now. Sorry,” and I left while they both stood there with their mouths open.

…at which time I went down the street to Subway, got two sandwiches prepared correctly, and paid for them in less time than it took for the Safeway people to figure out where the sourdough goddamn rolls were. I don’t really enjoy Subway’s product that much, but at least they know what they’re doing. The Safeway deli chick didn’t seem brand-new or anything. You can tell. She just seemed incompetent and didn’t appear to give a damn if I got what I ordered or not.

Call me impatient, or a mean old lady, or whatever. I don’t care. I’m tired of putting up with crap, I’m tired of people not caring how they present themselves, and, after some recent events, I’ve realized I’m tired of being the semi-invisible wimp who doesn’t get what she wants because she’s too nice to make a big deal about anything. So take note, local establishment that took a half-hour to bring me my zucchini stix the other night! You’re on my list too!

Oh, and if you don’t understand the title of this post (profanity-laced YouTube clip alert), you haven’t seen one of the funniest movies ever made.

2 thoughts on “…And a Liter o’ Cola

  1. I’m one of those semi-invisible wimps who doesn’t get what she wants because she’s too nice to make a big deal about anything. I hate making a fuss, but maybe I should.

  2. Pingback: Give us this day, our daily bread « Niall Thomas

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