Mr. Man guest posts!

I went to Subway today.  There was this guy there that I soon found annoying.  First, he was blocking the doorway when I was coming in.  Why can most people not figure out how to wrap the line around into the seating area, rather than just all huddling in the narrow doorway?  Secondly, he was wearing a polo shirt.  Not just any polo shirt, but one with a print fabric that combined a windblown American flag with the script of our Constitution.  Wow. 

Next he recognized a guy sitting with a sandwich.  They did the normal “how have you been” b.s. stuff.  Then the guy goes straight into “I’m leaving in a few weeks”.  The other guy asks, “were to?”  His fatal mistake.  “Disneyland with the family.”  Then a detailed recap and comparison of all of his trips to Disneyland over the past years, apparently 2 to 3 trips annually.  The summary included crowd volumes, average wait times, weather at the park, weather in Oregon at that time, their hotel amenities, special seasonal events at Disneyland, how much fun they had, what times to avoid going, how to get the best travel deals, and the proximity to natural disasters in southern California at their trips’ given times.  Meanwhile, his acquaintance didn’t ask one leading question, or actually say a single word (didn’t have a chance to).

After the other guy grabbed his kid and made an escape, he started whistling to a Nickelback song that was playing on the radio.  Btw, not the world’s best whistler, or sense of pitch.  “Take me now, Lord.”  I then thought, “this guy is going to order 3 or 4 sandwiches, right?”  I figured he was the guy in the office who others would always get to pick-up lunch by pooling their money to cover his food too.  Then they could all enjoy 30 or 40 minutes without him there.

I was wrong though.  He only ordered one sandwich.  However, he did make a call on his blue-douche while they were trying to ask him what type of sandwich he’d like, and which condiments and veggies he preferred.  When it came time to pay, the guy handed the cashier a five, as he was saying $5.25.  As he dug in his pocket, I got a quarter on standby to get the guy settled up.  Finally he pulled out another bill.  Gosh.  How to you not know how much your sandwich will be?  The menu is a collage of giant posters on the wall you face.  He took his to-go sandwich, and got the f- out!