TO THE LADY THAT MADE MY SANDWICH IN SUBWAY TODAY.

have you ever made a sandwich before in your life? when i stepped into that subway did i happen to pass through a portal to another fucking dimension? do you have a traumatic brain injury?

i asked for a simple sandwich, your specialty as a SUBWAY WORKER. What i got instead was a structural engineering nightmare.

as its CLEARLY your first day, either on this planet or at that subway im not sure, but let me break this down for you:

sandwiches are meant to have Structure. you cut the bread in the MIDDLE and ALL THE WAY THROUGH

not just the top like you’re gently suggesting a split. it’s like the sandwich wanted to fuse into a single, sad mass of meat and apathy. but NO, that was YOUR DOING. its like you THOUGHT about cutting it and got distracted

and thats what i would assume if you didnt do it to BOTH FUCKING SANDWICHES. ASSHOLE.

and if that cut is your idea of even i can only assume you hang pictures at a 37 degree angle and call it "artistic" when anyone points it out.

i had to PRY this thing open like i was cracking a fossil from an archaeological dig, i had to tear it apart with my own two hands like some sort of feral beast, i had to perform sandwich surgery just to eat it like a fucking human being.
twat.

and THEN when i finally got a bite? SURPRISE!!! meat tunnel. a WALL OF COLD CUTS as if you were trying to insulate a house with ham. everything else? shoved down at one end like a forgotten afterthought. congratulations. you made a meat sock. dickhead.

and where is my lettuce? i've seen more greenery in a desert. asshole.
didst thou taketh it for thy own? did you snack on it while you thought about how much sauce you WERENT going to put on my sandwich? you fucking rabbit?

oh the sauce. the Sauce. you mean the concept of sauce? the idea of moisture that maybe existed in another timeline? i bit into this monstrosity and concluded that i've eaten cardboard boxes with more flavour cohesion.

you DARE to call yourself a Sandwich Artist™? you committed a culinary hit and run you bobbleheaded mongrel.
and OH. the cheese. i almost forgot. probably because IT WASN’T THERE. there was MAYBE a whisper of cheese. a translucent, half-melted ghost of dairy. i had to go LOOKING for it like a child searching for their toy in a box of cereal. did it evaporate? did you think “she doesn't deserve cheese, shes got SALAMI DESPAIR to keep her going." ??? bellend????

and the WORST PART? it took you FOREVER to make it. i stood there watching you construct this abomination like you were solving a fucking mystery. you were moving like you were defusing a bomb, like you were hand-crafting a delicate edible work of art.

you spent SO MUCH TIME lovingly layering this sandwich of LIES. standing there with the focus of a brain surgeon and the speed of a sloth on sedatives. i thought, wow, maybe this is gonna be special. maybe shes really putting care into it.
WRONG. YOU WERE JUST TAKING YOUR TIME TO RUIN MY DAY AS EFFICIENTLY AS POSSIBLE.
you don’t get to make me wait seventeen years just to hand me the edible equivalent of a broken promise.

you don’t get to move in slow motion like you’re painting the sistine chapel with a single hair and then serve me a sad, half-glued meat log held together by broken dreams and one lonely piece of lettuce
give your fucking head a wobble.
dickhead.
you had all the right ingredients and put them together like generative ai attempting to recreate the mona lisa.
im honestly impressed that a human being could do that.
fuck you.
15/4/2025

Edit

Pub: 15 Apr 2025 02:14 UTC

Edit: 15 Apr 2025 02:17 UTC

Views: 77