…but after many years of careful observation I have come to the conclusion that sometimes, I am REALLY weird. (As opposed to the rest of the time when I am merely “quirky”, “eccentric”, and “entertaining”.) Here’s an example of what I mean.
Yesterday I was at Quiznos attempting to pick up dinner, but I was stymied in my quest due to the fact that I was behind a family of four who had absolutely no idea how to order a sandwich. This despite the fact that there is a sign directly above the ordering station that details the entire 3-step process, with pictures and everything. Here’s how that process went.
The Quiznos Lady: “What kind of sandwich would you like?”
Family: “Honey mustard and mayonnaise.”
The Quiznos Lady: “What kind of sandwich would you like?”
Family: Extremely long consultation among the four of them; no response for the Quizno’s lady.
The Quiznos Lady: “What kind of bread do you want?” (trying a new question, since the previous question wasn’t getting through)
Family: “We want ALL the vegetables.”
There were many possibilities available for how I, personally, chose to respond to that situation. Anger. Disgust. Irritation. Impatience. Laughter. Extreme Eye-Rolling. But did I choose any of these? Um, no.
Instead I took a deep breath, marshaled all of my inner resources, and decided, “When it is my turn, I will place The Most Perfect Sandwich Order that has ever been seen in any Quiznos in the history of all time.”
YEAH! Because that’ll show…no one…nothing? But in that moment I honestly believed that my perfect sandwich ordering behavior would become such a shining beacon of light as to show that family of four the gross error of all of their ways, leading to a grand repentance and renouncement of all of their former restaurant practices, and a personal culinary redemption.
See what I mean? Weird.
