Writing Down Something Dumb I Did So It Can't Torture Me Anymore: Sandwich Edition

Insecurity, confusion, and a club sandwich.

A few days ago, I went to Jimmy John’s for lunch. The guy in front of me in line gave his order and I overheard that he was getting the club supreme, like me. The attendant asked for a name to go with the order and he said: Mike.

When it was my turn, I said “I’ll take the club supreme too.” And the guy behind the counter asked... “Do you want it Mike’s way?”

This ruined my day.

Because, god help me, I just didn’t understand. Why would I want the same sandwich options as a stranger? Some guy who just happened to be standing in front of me? So I said, “I don’t know Mike.”

The attendant looked confused. “Okay, but do you want it Mike’s way?” So I said, “I’m not with Mike.” I could have stopped there, but I kept explaining. “Look, we’re not together.”

And that’s when I finally noticed. I wasn’t in Jimmy John’s. I was at Jersey Mike’s. And “Mike’s Way” is how they ask if you want it with everything.

“I don’t know Mike.”

“I’m not with Mike.”

“Look, we’re not together.”

I sounded like I was denying allegations of a personal relationship with Jersey Mike. Whoever he is. Like there were rumors about me dating Jersey Mike so I was going store to store to quash them.

I sounded insane. So I turned on my heel and walked out the door.

I’ll never eat a sandwich again.