Quiznos Incident
It was about that time of day for me to have lunch at 2:12, which was just about perfect timing for my 2:19 train to Port Wash., L.I. So I guess it was important for me to rush or something. So I run up to the counter, where no one is standing at that point. In my frantic routine I pause, and notice this elderly woman (around 40's or so, :-D) standing to the side of the counter. She glares at me , so I find the only polite thing to do is to glare back. This glaring contest continues for a bit longer, neither of us saying anything.
According to the unwritten rule book of glaring, the first person who glares should say something. I even gave her that look that said "If you're going to say something you should maybe say it sometime today?" But she didn't, so I continued: "6-inch turkey on white bread, hold the mayo, and the mustard..." Then all of a sudden: "I was here first...did you not see me standing here??" she utters out of nowhere with the sandwich-maker-girl already half-way through my sandwich. "Of course I saw you standing there, you were staring at me for a good ten minutes, you moron." Okay, so I didn't really say that, but I sure as hell wanted to. How was I supposed to know that, I thought we arrived there at the same time. And she didn't make it clear that she was there first beforehand. Unless telepathic communication is pretty straightforward. So my wise yet simple words were: "Oh, I didn't know that..." She just continued to look at me in absolute horror. As if I had committed some social faux pas, like tripping up some blind homeless guy and taking change out of his cup. Now that's some &#?%ed up $#!@. But I didn't do that, I was simply looking out for me. Something I haven't been doing lately. Ten to one, she's some ditsy tourist taking her time through the day to admire the city. Even after I left, she was still contemplating what she wanted. I had 7, (yes 7!) minutes to get lunch and catch my train. Time is money, money is time. Then the sandwich-maker-girl got the brunt of my frustration, I must have told her about 5 times that I just wanted turkey and nothing else. It was so difficult for her to grasp that concept that she felt she would be more secure in her sandwich-making skills if she asked me a couple more times after that.
So I probably startled some small town woman, who is used to knowing everyone's name in the sandwich shops in her neck of the woods. This is not that place, this is the Big Apple, move it or lose it. I probably would have skipped her anyway, I was running late. I probably would have pushed her out of my way in the daily frenzy we call rush hour as well. Maybe I would have gone as far as trip her if she had a cane and were blind. Or taken her money out of her cup if she was homeless. After all the New York Times is more important than that damn change cup. Moral of the story? If someone skips you in line, be vocal about it. Right there and then, not 5 years from now. Like the MTA slogan goes "If you see something, say something!"
After all of this, I still managed to miss the 2:19 train. Life's great.
According to the unwritten rule book of glaring, the first person who glares should say something. I even gave her that look that said "If you're going to say something you should maybe say it sometime today?" But she didn't, so I continued: "6-inch turkey on white bread, hold the mayo, and the mustard..." Then all of a sudden: "I was here first...did you not see me standing here??" she utters out of nowhere with the sandwich-maker-girl already half-way through my sandwich. "Of course I saw you standing there, you were staring at me for a good ten minutes, you moron." Okay, so I didn't really say that, but I sure as hell wanted to. How was I supposed to know that, I thought we arrived there at the same time. And she didn't make it clear that she was there first beforehand. Unless telepathic communication is pretty straightforward. So my wise yet simple words were: "Oh, I didn't know that..." She just continued to look at me in absolute horror. As if I had committed some social faux pas, like tripping up some blind homeless guy and taking change out of his cup. Now that's some &#?%ed up $#!@. But I didn't do that, I was simply looking out for me. Something I haven't been doing lately. Ten to one, she's some ditsy tourist taking her time through the day to admire the city. Even after I left, she was still contemplating what she wanted. I had 7, (yes 7!) minutes to get lunch and catch my train. Time is money, money is time. Then the sandwich-maker-girl got the brunt of my frustration, I must have told her about 5 times that I just wanted turkey and nothing else. It was so difficult for her to grasp that concept that she felt she would be more secure in her sandwich-making skills if she asked me a couple more times after that.
So I probably startled some small town woman, who is used to knowing everyone's name in the sandwich shops in her neck of the woods. This is not that place, this is the Big Apple, move it or lose it. I probably would have skipped her anyway, I was running late. I probably would have pushed her out of my way in the daily frenzy we call rush hour as well. Maybe I would have gone as far as trip her if she had a cane and were blind. Or taken her money out of her cup if she was homeless. After all the New York Times is more important than that damn change cup. Moral of the story? If someone skips you in line, be vocal about it. Right there and then, not 5 years from now. Like the MTA slogan goes "If you see something, say something!"
After all of this, I still managed to miss the 2:19 train. Life's great.
posted by Ari Melhado-Weinberg at 11:36:00 PM
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