Jared's Best Friend.

In my family, Tuesday night is Subway night.

Because of the way our schedule rolls, Tuesday night is  especially hectic - from the moment the kids are out of school, there's always something going on. Hockey, Karate, stopping by the Grandparents, Homework, and one of us being at work until 5 or 6 means that dinner is the one thing left out.

So we hit Subway before heading home.

Before you scream at me that I'm feeding the corporate machine, understand this: in the town I live in, the only quick and easy places to eat are all places like McDonald's, DQ, A&W, or some Chinese Food place. I'd rather eat a tad healthier than that, and we don't have a deli right around the corner, or even a little Mom and Pop place to go - if we did, they'd be closed at 7pm like the rest of town usually is on a Tuesday.

We do have 3 Subways.

We always go to the same location, because it's always the same guy working there. Every Tuesday for the past six weeks, Lennon (I asked his name) has been behind the counter crankin' out the sandwiches.You know how on their shirts it says "Sandwich Artist"? Well, in all the years I've eaten at Subway, this is the only person I've come across who fills the role. Perfect food, fast, and the friendliest service every time we are there. I was so impressed with his work that I emailed Subway Canada and the local Franchise Owner to tell them how impressed I was with the job the guy does. (I praised the sit out of him.)

What I'm used to at Subway..

So you can imagine my disappointment last night when we walked into our favorite location to see someone else behind the counter. MyWife even looked at me and asked if I still wanted to eat there. Considering anything else would add 50 grams of fat and 600 calories to the evening, I said we'd just try it and see.

Sandwich was okay - service was brutal.

Mr. Surly Bastard behind the counter was a complete letdown. In a job that asks you to find out what the customer would like on their sandwich , and then put said item on the sandwich, you really shouldn't make it seem like an imposition when their child asks for extra lettuce. I wanted to reach over the counter and shove a banana pepper into his eye.

What I got last night.

My only consolation was that Lennon had either been handsomely rewarded for his efforts with a night off - or maybe some sort of exotic vacation, I don't know - but I hope it's short, because last night just wasn't the same.

Come back to us, Lennon, come back.





Later.