The guy at Subway

The last two times I went to the Subway around the corner from where I work, there was a new guy making sandwiches. I'm used to extremely quick turn around time from the people that usually work there, I depend upon it to get back to work quickly. Yes, I'm a bitch, but every minute I'm not at work is a minute I could be building toward time-and-a-half. I'm a single mother - every minute I build toward time-and-a-half goes toward the next utility that is about to be shut off, et cetera, et cetera, ad nauseum.

Back to the new guy making my sandwich? He had deep purple bags under his eyes, sniffling the whole time (while making my sandwich, eewww! But he kept it sanitary.). He asked me what I wanted, while bantering and flirting with his co-workers, only to ask me again what kind of bread I wanted. Then he had a really hard time cutting the bread. Then asked me 3 more times what I wanted on it. I started losing my patience, but really, is Subway the place to lose my cool? No, I didn't think so. So, the first time he made my sandwich adequately, and was really, extremely friendly about the whole thing. He asked me twice how I was doing with a goofy smile on his face. Kind of like he didn't remember that he had already asked me...

The second time I went, the same thing happened, but with less flirting with his co-workers. Again, being the bitch that I am, I was barely tolerant. I actually thought about calling to let the owner know that he had an active heroin user making sandwiches on the front line. Believes me when I say I know my heroin users. But then, I realized that he had given me double meat without charging. And he had been so friendly. I actually know how very much drugs and alcohol can fuck up your life. If you are willing, you will take any job someone will give you to try to bring home some money while you are trying to raise a child. I'm a partially educated person that worked at as a cashier at a grocery store to try to stop the foreclosure on my home.

I read a recent post from V at Violent Acres that really brought it home:

"There are people no doubt reading right now thinking, “I’m not going to kiss up to people in the service industry. It’s their job to wait on me. It’s their job to be nice. I'm not going to kiss their ass because they are doing their job. Blah, blah, fucking, blah.” To them I say, yeah, but they chose that job. They could have made it their job to rob your fucking house or sell cocaine to your ugly fucking kid, by they didn’t. Instead, they decided to get up at 5 o’clock in the fucking morning to make your coffee and tell you to have a nice day. If don’t respect that, then fuck off right now, you classless piece of shit."

(I worship the ground your bad-ass walks on, V. I bow down at your bitchy feet. Also, my fucking kid isn't that ugly, V. I may be biased but I think he's really quite good looking.)

I went to Subway, today. It has been a week since I was there. It was early for the lunch rush, but there were new guys there, giving a satisfactory sandwich without the double meat or the overt friendliness of my overly friendly, possibly drug addicted, Sandwich Artiste of the week before.

I feel extremely guilty for any nasty thoughts, and hope he is well.