The Interloper
I walk to a Subway near my house, on occasion. It's about 25 minutes away, and when I'm feeling too lazy to work out, I'll do this instead.It's been branded "The World's Worst Subway", by me, and I think it's accurate. Something is always, always not right. A few examples:
--staff sleeping on love seats (yes, they have love seats)
--staff talking about their relationship issues at high volume
--staff on personal calls when you walk in, making the "just a minute" gesture to you
--all manner of food/sauces/drinks not available. One per visit.
--floor dirty first thing in the morning
--super annoying morning show on the radio at ultra-high volume
There's a much longer list than that, but it's a start. What I've never been able to do is encapsulate all that into how I feel when I walk into this particular Subway.
What I realized on my last visit, though, is that I do know the feeling: it's the feeling I get when I walk into someone else's home unannounced.
Employees give you the "Well, I didn't invite you, but I guess I can rustle something up" look as they continue with their personal conversations.
I'm not the customer. I'm the interloper.
There's another Subway 7 minutes away, by car, and it is absolutely superior in every conceivable way. But it's too far to walk (almost an hour each way), so I continue to visit the Subway Of Sadness And Despair. Hey, that's a new title!
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