Would You Like Fries With That? Really? You Would? Well That's Too Bad, You Can't Have Fries With That. Cause This Is A Sub Shop. Get Over It.

"Mommy it's SNOWING!!!"

I resist the urge to reply with a choice sentence along the lines of "Big fuckin deal." They must be from down south. Maybe from some dumb state like Georgia. Some state where snow is actually still... cool. Instead I say "Welcome to Subz welcome to subz how may I help you how may I help you?"

" I want tomatoes mommy I want tomatoes!"

"Ok sweety I'll get you some tomatoes." The girls mother rolled her eyes. She thought I wasn't paying attention. But I was. I know her little girl annoys her. Even though she knows she's supposed to find every single freaking thing this girl does - from crying to burping to screaming at the top of her lungs - cute and adorable, she doesn't. I resist the urge to call her a terrible mother and see if she will cry.

"How may I help you how may I help you?"

"I'll have a large meatball sub, with some extra tomatoes." She said, smiling at her daughter.

"Ok no problem." I begin the process of making a sandwich. It's a process that I've done so many times by now that I could do it in my sleep. Although if I DID make a sandwich in my sleep, it would SUCK. I put the meat and cheese on the bread, and put it into the wrapping. I take three tomatoes and stick them into a plastic container. I put the sandwich and the tomatoes in the bag. I tell her how much it costs, and take her money. I cheat her a penny. She'll get over it. The two turn around and leave the store.
Another customer walks in. It's a woman. An Asian woman. She is NOT wearing makeup. But it looks like she WAS wearing makeup, and then just wiped it off with a rag. She also looks like she would have NO problem mercilessly beating a homeless man if he entered her house against her will. But that's just speculation. Anyways, before she could place her order something dramatic happened. The clock struck six. Now it's not that I was looking directly at the clock at the time, but Subz has one of those bird clocks that chimes annoying bird calls every hour. So that's how I knew it turned six. The NEXT thing I noticed was that the power went out.
The evening sky outside was light enough so that the store was not completely black, but it was still extremely dark. I thought about making a joke and pretending to read this lady the dinner specials, but then I notice she is preoccupied with beating several cockroaches with her umbrella. I guess the cold weather had driven the roaches inside. All I can say is that I am extremely glad the little girl wasn't still here. She would be screaming so loud I would have to plug a couple of black olives into my earlobes.
The bird clock chimed two more times for the power came back on, so I guess the power must have been lost for about two hours. It actually didn't take them that long to fix it. Usually it lasts for days. I guess the workers weren't as drunk this time. I'm actually kind of happy because I got absolutely no customers during that span of time. I just got to chill. With my lettuce. And my red wine vinegar.

Take The Long Way Home

FUCK it's cold outside! I knew I should have brought a coat. Or at least a jacket. All I'm wearing is this tattered Red Wings t-shirt, a tribute to the days when people actually gave a damn about the NHL. I'm on my way home now, if you can call Subz my home. I guess I have a bed and a bathroom, so I can't ask for much more.
Anyways, my nipples are so frozen they are nearly poking holes through this shirt. I see my breath forming furious clouds of water vapor as it leaves my mouth. I can't even remember how long it's been since I've actually been able to FEEL my toes. Than again I am slightly inebriated so that might have something to do with it.

I'm now walking past Goldstein and Frick's Bank. Now THOSE are some Jew names! I resist the sudden strong urge to enter the bank and superglue some change to the floor of the bank, just to see how many people will struggle to pick it up. I turn onto my street. I can see Subz off in the distance, a beacon of hope on the horizon. By hope, I of course mean overpriced deli meats, breads, cheeses, rabbit-food, other vegetables, and condiments. My shoes crackle lightly as they step over the rough cement of the road. Some people say my shoes are ripped and torn, and I need to get new ones. I like to think they have lots of character.
I have FINALLY made it to Subz. I reach out with my frozen fingers and pull the door handle towards me. At risk of sounding like a pansy, it actually kind of hurts, because my fingers are SO frozen. To make things worse, the door is locked. I should have worked at a 7/11! Anyways, I now have to make my way over to where our spare key is hid - inside of a sandy, desert, fake rock, that fits in worse in these urban surroundings than Paris Hilton would on "Survivor" (copyright, CBS, all rights reserved. Any attempt to use this word without the express written consent of CBS is strictly prohibited) - and took it out. I unlocked the door of Subz and walked inside.