A (Mostly Sort of) True Story:
Jeff was hungry. Famished even. It was somewhat early for lunch (right before 11 a.m.) and a lot of the restaurants were still closed, but Jeff couldn't wait any longer. He had been up all night studying for an exam, and his intestines were writhing in pain from too much caffeine and too little sleep. He had to eat. He had to eat now. His impatience was palpable as he drove South on Broadway. Through the haze of hunger, there was a moment of clarity when he realized that City Bites was already open. Brakes slammed, tires squealed, an abrupt turn was made into the parking lot, and Jeff had to hold himself back from bolting into the restaurant[1].
It didn't take him long to order. BlackJack Chicken on 'Everything Wheat' bread practically screamed at him from the menu, so he screamed it back[1]. He also ordered a pumpkin cookie for good measure. There was a sigh of relief that escaped his lips when Jeff realized that he was just moments away from quieting the beast growling in his innards. That's when He walked in.
He was a rosy-cheeked man with a mustache and a baseball cap. He seemed to be heading for the path to Type 2 diabetes[1] (assuming his feet weren't already squarely planted on it). He walked up to the counter, and Jeff glanced at him in passing, their eyes meeting ever so briefly. Jeff didn't realize at that moment that he was looking at the enemy. The opposition. The adversary. The villain... The man ordered the Baja Chicken Tacos without hesitation. He then told the attractive young woman at the counter his name. Joe. The name that will be seared into Jeff's brain for at least a week, maybe two weeks[1].
Joe sat down. Silence followed. More silence. Occasionally, the silence was broken by the bustle of the kitchen as they prepared the food. Then Jeff heard it. His name. "Jeff, your order is ready!" exclaimed the attractive woman. Jeff sprang to his feet and walked to the counter, but feelings of excitement quickly turned to confusion. His food wasn't on the counter. He looked around uncertain about what just happened. And then he saw his sandwich, his love, his BlackJack Chicken. It seemed to cry out to him as it entered the mouth of that villain. Joe!
Jeff stood there with his mouth agape, a silent scream caught in his throat[1]. His ears pounded. Was this actually happening? "Did this obese, florid-faced man just pilfer my sandwich?" he thought incredulously. Then the attractive woman's voice was heard again as she said, "Joe, your order is ready!" Joe looked up, eyes wide, and mouth jammed with a sandwich that wasn't his. His face was red and sweaty with excitement, and maybe a touch of shame. He averted his eyes from Jeff's and kept eating, pretending he didn't hear his name. Jeff turned to the attractive woman and pointed out that the Baja Chicken Tacos weren't his. All of the employees looked on, stupefied as Joe continued to stuff himself in a fearful frenzy, disturbed by the notion that the purloined sandwich would be snatched from his grasp[1].
There was a sadness in her eyes when she realized the shameful event that had taken place, and the young woman apologized, and informed Jeff she would rectify this heinous action. Jeff sat back down. He felt tired. Defeated. Joe continued to avoid eye contact, abashed by his stupidity. "How could I have confused Jeff with Joe? Did my tiny brain forget that I ordered tacos and not a sandwich?" Joe interrogated himself. But it was too late. He had done the unforgivable and stolen another man's food. He would carry this moment with him as a badge of dishonor. His children would feel shame, but be unable to explain why. But they would know. They would have an indescribable awareness that their father was a terrible human being.
The attractive young woman walked over to Jeff and placed a new BlackJack Chicken sandwich near him. With tears in her eyes[1], she apologized for her part in this terrible deed. Jeff was astounded that the young woman was apologizing for something that wasn't her fault. He wanted to ask her for her name, maybe reach out to her and let her know that her kindness would not be forgotten. But she was gone. Like a ghost. A shadow. A whisper[1].
Okay, I'm bored, this story is taking too long. The sandwich was delicious. The cookie was delicious as well. ~$6.00 for the two.
[1]Note: Exaggeration.
Edit: Their corporate customer service is horrendous though. I reached out to them about a recent experience, and they straight up ignored me. So I'm downgrading this review. read more