Senior Delay at the Subway

Yesterday, mid-afternoon, I stopped off at the local shopping plaza to grab lunch. What a mistake that was! It was like a mall on Black Friday. People were scuttling about like roaches as cars began to form long lines in the travel lanes. I just wanted to grab something quickly and then get out of Dodge.

I decided to to go into Subway because it didn't look too busy. I got in line behind an old woman. I placed my order and the Subway "mechanic" proceeded to throw my favorite variety of nitrates onto the freshly baked roll. As I progressed down to the fixins station, the old lady was causing a major delay. She ordered a whole sub, but wanted it prepared as if it was two halves. She wanted certain items on one half and and other items on the other. As she decided on each item, she would say it and then point to it through the glass. I guess she didn't think that the Subway guy could find the lettuce or onion unless she pointed him in the general direction. And then, as the guy would put stuff on the sub, the old lady would say, "Oh, that's too much, Can you take a little off?"

Every once in a while, the old lady had a hard time understanding would the Subway guy was saying. Every time this happened, she would instantly look at other people in the line for help. The Subway guy would be asking, "Is this good?" And the old lady would shrug her shoulders and say, "I don't know." Meanwhile, the rest of the line at the mercy of the stalemate.

I swear, I don't know how the guy controlled himself. I would have yanked the lady behind the counter and told her to make it herself. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally approved of everything and moved on down to the cash register. Of course, when she got there, she didn't have her money ready. Nowadays, the majority of people use a debit/credit card. But not senior citizens. I guess the art of swiping a piece of plastic through a card reader is too much technology to handle. So, right on cue, she starts fishing through her purse for some cash. She lays out several bills on the counter, smoothing out the wrinkles of each of them. The Subway guy scratched his head as he watched the ritual.

The price of her meal was $9.29. Now, most people would just hand over ten bucks and call it a day. But the old lady pulls out a small coin purse and slowly retrieves exactly 29 cents. Then, instead of handing the money to the Subway guy, she meticulously lays the coins on the counter, one at a time. This causes even more of a delay as the Subway guy tries to retrieve each coin.

If I wouldn't have already started my own "sub process", I would have just left. The snow was starting to fall outside and the frenzy of people was escalating. After about ten minutes, I was finally at the cash register. The Subway guy breathed a sigh of relief when he saw me pull out my credit card. I wished him a much deserved, "Good Day!" and finally made my way home.

In general, I have no beef with senior citizens. I just don't want to get stuck behind them at the Subway (or any other check-out line)!

kw

The Subway Communication Breakdown

Why does something as simple as ordering lunch have to be so difficult? I don;t know, maybe this is why most fast food joints have adopted the order-by-number method. But nonetheless, here's my story.....

First off, I happen to really like Subway. The food is always fresh and unless you happen to be on the Adkins Diet, you gotta love that they bake their own bread. I also like the consistency in their product. If you order a Spicy Italian sub in Philadelphia, you're likely to find pretty much the same exact one in Chicago.

But the problem is that there always seems to be a communication breakdown whenever I'm placing my order. Earlier today, I stopped of at a local Subway for lunch. The woman behind the counter had the deer-in-the-headlights (DITH) look, so I expected the usual song-and-dance routine. In broken English, she asks me what I would like. I tell her that I'm all about the 6-inch Italian BMT today. I'm not sure what she didn't understand, but she immediately resumed the DITH stare. After a few moments of awkward silence, I reiterated my order, except this time I kept it on a professional level and spoke more slowly....

"I'd...like.....a..... six....inch....Italian....B....M....T...on....Italian....bread"

She comprehends my request and goes to work splitting the bread and loading it up with the spicy slices of nitrates. Then, just when I thought we were making progress, she looks up and says "Chee?"

Confused, I respond, "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

Again, with no expression on her face, she says, "Chee!"

I turn the guy behind me and ask, "Who the hell is Chee?"

The guy, who seemed to getting irritated, says, "She wants to know if you want cheese."

After finally solving the cheese mystery, she finally throws a couple pieces of pepper-jack onto the project and we move on down to the fixin's station. I tell her put on some lettuce tomato and a little mayonnaise. But I just can't leave it alone. I tell her, "Hey, you know what? I'm not driving, so throw on some pickles too." At this point, I get a little distracted as I fish my cash out of my pocket. When I look back up, she ambushes me with another DITH stare. Realizing what I have to do, I begin to point at the pickles through the sneeze-shield. I must have looked like a kid pointing at the honey-glazed crullers at Dunkin' Donuts. At this stage, I'm thinking that flash cards would be a great idea.

She then asks me if I'd like something to drink. I respond, "Yes, I'd like an iced tea." I have no idea what was so hard to comprehend about this, but confers with the young girl working the cash register. I can't really understand what they're saying, but I'm quite certain I hear the word "tea' mentioned several times. Finally, the DITH woman looks at me and says, "Tea?" I point towards the beverages and say, "Yes, Tea". Again, but this time with a more confused look, the woman says, "Tea?" Most people would just order a Coke or Pepsi and be done with it. But, unless it has a healthy dose of rum in it, I usually don't drink soda. So, for some crazy reason, I make the "T" sign with my hands. Now, the woman is really confused. She thinks that I'm giving her the "time-out" sign.

I can sense the guy behind me is getting more irritated. But what the hell did I do? I'm just trying to order a Spicy BMT and go about my business. In an act of what I perceived to be divine intervention, the woman finally goes over to the beverage station and pours me an iced tea. Hallelujah!

As the two woman complete my order, they go into an extended conversation in a foreign language. This really annoys me because, although I can't comprehend a word they're saying, I get the feeling that they're talking about me. And this same thing has happened to some of my friends. To me, this is just as rude as whispering in front of someone. My buddy, Ray, ran into this exact situation at a Subway a year or so ago. Paraphrasing here, in the nicest way he knew how, he summed it up by saying, "You guys shouldn't do that shit. It's f*ckin' rude!"

Hey look, I'm not busting on anyone because they can't speak English. At least they're trying to speak a second language. Hell, I took six years of French and can barely put together a full sentence. I guess I just get a little annoyed when a language barrier gets between my and my lunch.....

kw