Styx—“Big Bang Theory”
MoTW—“My Best Fiend”
Subway’s decision to cease their Sandwich Club threw me for a loop. When
I first heard the news I was a little bit annoyed and then I became
angrier by the day.
My goal in life has been to save up enough tickets so that I could treat
the world to a free Subway sandwich but since a few bad eggs decided it
would be cool to counterfeit the tickets, my years of hard work and
collecting are for naught.
Forget about me visiting the 23,000+ Subways in 82 countries in order to
bring us all together
as one big, happy family. It’s not going to happen since I’m not in the
mood to actually purchase the sandwiches for my fellow humans.
It finally came to the boiling point this past weekend as I sat
crosslegged in the middle of the basement with the tiny tickets running
through my hands. As the tears ran from my eyes staining those little
pieces of paper I knew I had no option but to make a stand.
I turned on the air conditioner and set the thermostat to a balmy 23
degrees and within a couple hours all the indoor plumbing had frozen and
my fingers started turning blue. I dug out my winter wear and put 3
layers of bulky clothing on and then ventured out to my car which had
been sitting outside in the humid, 85 degree weather the whole day.
Off to my local Subway I went and I purchased 4 foot-long tunas on white
bread with extra mayo, black olives and provolone cheese. I tried to
make small talk with the Subway employees just to see if the real reason
why the Sandwich Club was ending was due to Jared, but they didn’t want
to talk to the guy in the parka for some reason.
Back home I went and I set the sandwiches out on the back porch, making
positively sure they were sitting in direct sunlight and back inside I
went. By this time the toilets had cracked from the ice buildup, but I
really didn’t care since I can always pee in the sink, and poop outside.
After a couple hours of doing absolutely nothing inside, I went outside
and ate all four sandwiches. This gave me energy and I decided that it
was a perfect time to cut the grass, so I did but not before making sure
it was cut shorter than my neighbors freshly mown grass because it
pisses him off and he has no option but to go out and re-cut his grass,
plus he also gets annoyed when I cut my lawn in a completely opposite
pattern since he feels that we all need to blend in and conform or some
such nonsense.
It took me 3 hours to cut the grass and I decided that I wouldn’t drink
anything except for whatever sweat from my forehead found its way into
my open, panting mouth so I was pretty weak and had some sever shakes
when I was done.
A local child did happen by while I was refilling the tank with gasoline
and he recommended that I might be more comfortable without the parka,
sweater, ski pants and boots to which I had no reply since my tongue was
swollen and stuck to roof of my mouth.
When I was done, I tried to light up a cigarette but I was too weak to
flic my Bic, so I decided to sweep up any errant grass clippings that
had found their way into the street. As I slowly and painfully swept,
the ice cream truck came but I couldn’t get him to stop even though I
tried to frantically blink my eyes at him since I couldn’t raise my arms
but he didn’t notice and went on his merry Music Box Dancer playing way.
Satisfied that I had corralled all the escaped grass clippings, I headed
back to the garage but a strange and wonderful feeling suddenly came
over me as I bent over and violently vomited up a heavy stream of 4
sandwiches, sweat, and Lucky Charms.
When the stream subsided and I could retch no more and the last string
of puke drool from my lower lip was wiped away I knew that either I had
Subway right where I wanted them, or that I really needed to get some
medical attention pronto.
COMING NEXT: Square crates in round circles.
