Friday, October 08, 2004


I'm in line today at Subway. Behind me is a guy who looks, at first glance, to be better dressed than his character, if that makes any sense--very expensive gold watch, starched white shirt, hundred dollar haircut on a two dollar head. That kind of guy. He ordered a foot-long seafood sub.

This stopped me cold. I've never heard anyone actually order a seafood sub from Subway. I thought it was on the menu as a practical joke for noobs, and anybody who actually ordered one would be greeted with belly-shaking laughter. Plus, six inches of certain death isn't enough for this guy. No, he wants an entire foot of death.

The lady behind the counter is making this guy's last meal, and he asks for some grated cheese. She says "That will be extra--is that okay?"

This is where Mr. Ass kicks into high gear. He gives her this combination mutter/guffaw/sneer, as if to say "Why, I buy and sell people like you every day. Fill my death sub with cheese, you foolish person." It was quite ugly, but he was shrewdly assholish, because he did it quietly enough that almost no one heard him.

The question she asked was not an idle one. I've seen people almost stroke out over paying twenty-five cents more for extra cheese. There's an entire sub-culture of people who value a nickel more than life itself, and these people must be notified of any potential extra charges for the safety of the general public.

When Mr. Ass reaches the register, the lady ringing up the sale asks the sandwich lady what he had, and as she's listing the details he sneeringly says "Don't forget the EXTRA CHEESE." Unbelievable.

I go to the restroom for a splash and dash, and when I get back he's at the soft drink machine. He fills up his large cup, puts on the lid, and inserts a straw. He takes a long drink, and much to my delight, the drink bubbles up around the straw, overflows, and spills all over his no-longer-white shirt. He mutters a curse under his breath, and while he's still floundering, I walk toward the door, say "Karma" just loud enough for him to hear, and walk out.

Some days you just get lucky.

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