Sandwiches are great for lunch. For dinner as well. When I’ve had too much on my lunch plate, that is.
On such a day I headed over to The Sandwich Guy on lower Session Road. I was curious what the hexagon in their stuff is all about. The place is your hole in the wall kind and it was packed when I went. A group of young people who came in hoping to dine in had to leave. When they did, they looked like they’ve just been robbed of a million. Perhaps the owners have it in their plans to expand later.
Scanning the menu board, I thought the choices quite limited. But the good thing about having few options is I’m able to decide quickly. Not like when I’m faced with a limitless array as the case these days with beauty products. In order to get it done and over with, I do a covert eeny meeny miny moe of the display. It doesn’t matter what shampoo you end up with. They’re all the same, more or less. Really.
I ordered the Mango and Crabsticks (which I’m allergic to but I so wanted the seaweeds that went with this combination) in half (wait, half of how long exactly? should I ask? the lady at the counter looked beat. she must’ve been taking orders forever. never mind. I’ll just surprise myself).
I saw an array of ‘add ons’ on the menu. “What do you suggest I put in my mango and crabsticks?” I asked the lady.
She turned to the young woman organizing the sandwiches on another counter. “Lettuce.” I heard her say.
Nope. “Grilled chicken,” I said.
She brightened up. I wasn’t sure which from- the pressure on her to make a suggestion having been taken away, or that I’ve decided.
“What about drinks?” she asked.
I looked tentatively at the array of soda drinks on the counter.
“How about you try our power drink?” she offered.
I focused on the ‘power drink’ ad on the counter- it read, water ‘with chia seeds’. Huh? “Yes, that one,” I said.
“Great!” she said.
I smiled back. Should I disappoint and tell her it was actually for the bottle? I decided not.
Afterward I promptly went to a vacant table to wait for my brown bag. As it’s a small space, everybody could hear everybody. My table was close to that of a young couple’s. Or should I say young people on a date. The longer their exchange drifted toward me, the more I grew to pity the guy. He was to my ears blabbering, presumably in the hope of winning over the young woman’s heart. I realized at that moment society’s (and, well, women’s) huge expectation on men- to man up and go on the hunt. Nobody I thought need not be placed in a position where, as with that young man, one has to lose face in order to gain favor with the other. Then again, do men want the dating game any other way?
My brown bag arrived. My thoughts returned to the road and rush hour traffic.