Last week I went because my friend's parents were in town and we didn't want to meet them at a depressing deli. So, a nice sandwich shop seemed like a good NYC alternative.
I decided to go back because the sandwich I had was large, it was pole caught tuna, with dill, olives, and roasted lemon. It was expensive, more than I ever want to pay for a sandwich, but it was good. No complaints about the delivery/presentation of it.
Do you like how I'm setting the scene?
Anyways, this time, the sandwich was extremely small. Like, I paid $9.17 for a sandwich the size of American Doll food. It was clear they gave me the heel of the bread, which looked stingy and ridiculous on the plate. I was hungry but also a wuss, so the girl I was with actually asked them herself (pretending to be me, with my plate of food) if they could make another since they were clearly going to start with a new loaf of bread.
They said no.
If they had replaced my sandwich, I would have been happy. But now I can act vindictively:
Now, let me show you the photos of the small sandwich and you can judge for yourself. Please note that my way of measuring how small it was is to compare it to my small cell phone. So, first you can see how small my cell phone is:
I hope that Tom Colicchio reads this and offers me a GIANT sandwich. Also, a giant cell phone.
I really need to clean the bedroom and the living room.
Mainly the bedroom.
Although both would be wildly welcome changes.
I have two suitcases exploding in the bedroom. Why? I don't take business trips that often. One suitcase is my "winter clothes" I pulled from the closet. I'm worried they are itchy or I won't like them anymore. You understand this also means I have basically been wearing my heaviest summer clothing up until I pulled this suitcase out.
What is in the other suitcase, you might wonder? Now that is a precious little secret.
Something happening tonight I won't be going to:
Thursday, December 4th, 2008, 7:00 pm
The Writers Studio welcomes special guest readers Robert Pinsky, Tom Sleigh, and Rachel DeWoskin.
Judson Memorial Church
55 Washington Square South, NYC
$5 suggested donation at the door
Book signing and reception following the reading.