Suburban Goddess

I feel that I must preface this post with an apology to those sensitive individuals I am about to offend. If you offend easily, then hit the BACK button immediately and go back to where you came from. To those not faint-of-heart, read on, but at your own risk.

While standing in line at a local sub shop that will remain nameless, I had the luck to fall behind an elderly woman and her friend. It was the lunch rush, and the line stacked up quickly behind me as the woman and her friend peered at the menu above the attendant’s head.

“I can’t see that….what does it say?”

“I think today is meatball day…it’s Tuesday, right?”

“What?”

“It’s meatball day….it’s Tuesday, right?”

“What?”

“It’s meatball day…..meatball sandwiches today…on special.” (It’s Monday, by the way.)

“Oh, but I don’t like meatballs….what else do they have?”

“I don’t know, I can’t see that. Can you see that?”

“I can’t see that…what else do they have?” (Who’s on first?)

The attendant offers a helping hand. “We have turkey, roast beef, ham, tuna…”

“What?”

“She said tuna.”

“I don’t like tuna…what else do they have?” (PICTURES, Grandma, look at the PICTURES.)

“I think they have chicken here…”

“I want BBQ. Do they have BBQ?”

The attendant looks relieved. “Yes ma’am, we have BBQ sauce. We can put it on the chicken if you would like.”

“No, no, I don’t want chicken.”

“You don’t want BBQ chicken?” the friend asks.

“No, no, I just said, I don’t want chicken. What else do you have?”

The attendant points up above her head. Hallelujah. “We have all those sandwiches up there. You can pick any one of those.”

Silence…..more silence……then the rumbling of an angry mob beginning behind me. Oh dear God, I’m in the way. I quickly look for a way out, but it appears the only way is over the counter, seeing as how there are about 15 people in front of the door. I figure I can clear it; I’m tall. Old Lady finally points a gnarled, wrinkled finger above the attendant’s head.

“Is that chicken?”

“I thought you didn’t want chicken…” says the friend.

“I might want chicken, if it’s BBQ chicken. It has to be cooked that way.”

“No ma’am,” says the attendant. “It’s pre-cooked, and we can put BBQ sauce on it for you.”

“Oh no, that’s not what I want. I want the chicken BBQ’ed.”

Silence. Rumble, rumble.

“You don’t BBQ the chicken here?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Well, that’s what I want… I want BBQ’ed chicken.”

“We don’t have that ma’am.”

“You don’t have chicken?”

“No ma’am, we have chicken, it’s not BBQ’ed, we put the sauce on here.”

“You don’t have chicken?”

Silence. “Yes, ma’am, we do.”

“You have BBQ’ed chicken?”

Pause. “Yes ma’am, we can make BBQ chicken for you…..”

“Well, why didn’t you just say that?” She turned to her friend. “Why didn’t she just say that? These kids today just don’t listen.”

This entry was posted on July 31, 2006 at 9:54 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.