It’s called a chicken bacon ranch sandwich for a reason

By Tresckow

OK, I don't expect anyone working at a Subway to be a mental giant. I don't expect them to secretly be a talented baroque artist in their spare time. However, I do expect they have more to bring to the job than a pulse.

I went to the gym today. Yes, I'm bragging. I actually went today. That's two days in a row, baby! That's beside the point. After I ended my INTENSE MUSCLE BLASTING SKULL CRUSHING workout (or some variation thereof) I had some running around to do. The same ol same ol stuff…. find a place to fill up my gas tank without paying $25 a gallon, go to the ATM, blah blah blah. All in all, mundane stuff. Beneath it all, I had no idea where I was going to get food.

Let me set the stage for you. The wife is out of town (hence the posting on Arizona). When The Wife is out of town, I don't eat much. It's not that I don't cook; it's just that I don't cook. She's better at it. I instantly revert back to college life; making a pizza last three days, stealing food from work, eating peanut butter and chips, etc.

So, I was hungry. Subway ended up being on my way home. I figured, "Sure, I'll stop at the poor substitute for Quiznos." I parked and walked in. I was behind one other dude fumbling around the menu. I knew exactly what I wanted- a good old twelve inch toasted chicken bacon ranch sub. The 12 year old behind the counter asked me what I wanted.

A twelve inch toasted chicken bacon ranch, please.

He starts putting it together. "Do you want bacon with that?" I stared blankly at him. Seriously? Yes, I would like bacon on my toasted twelve inch chicken bacon ranch sandwich.

"Would you like that toasted?"

OK, he had to be fucking with me. YES. I would like my toasted twelve inch chicken bacon ranch sandwich toasted.

*Ding. It's toasted. "Would you like ranch with that?"

It was all I could do to keep my feet planted on the floor and not jump over the cheap Plexiglas and throttle him with a loaf of Italian four cheese bread.

What the hell? Is society that stupid? Am I going to have to order a seemingly simple entrée by the ingredient from now on? You have to be shitting me. This just proves my point. We, as a society, are not beating our children enough.