Tag: sandwich

Are you sitting down? Because, you certainly need to be seated for this…as what follows here, may be the most excruciatingly painful bit of news you will here for some time…a horrendous event that has certainly scarred me for life, and has depressed me to no end. 

So it all started off relatively normal, I was hungry…which is always a vulnerable state to be in…you fall for marketing ploys more easily, and the lovely smells start to take on that cartoonish effect – where they basically carry you into the nearest restaurant! I wanted something quick, as I had places to go, people to see. So thought I couldn’t go wrong with good ol’ Subway. With being in Korea, I thought it would be a rare taste of the staple Western cuisine we all know, and love…this has been true throughout the world for me – actually I remember at the foot of The Great Wall of China, there was a Subway…and I held up the whole tour group (accidentally), when I decided I shouldn’t miss the chance to snag a foot long sandwich…I didn’t expect them to wait for me…but they did…so I had to  endure the rest of the walk up there with jealous faces staring at me, as sauce ran down my face…

Anyway, I just got sidetracked, sorry…so yeah, I walked into the Subway, and was ecstatic to find that the meatball sub had some kind of special set menu deal thing going on…like a lunch time offer I guess. This was great news, because then I could tell myself that I did really well, that I was saving money, I was being a thrifty so-and-so, and that the money I hadn’t spent – could now be put towards something more productive…or even charity…yeah! It’s lucky I actually decided to come here, good for me…and more so, good for the WORLD!

So there I was waiting in line, planning out which veggies I may put in this, soon to be Nobel Peace Prize winning sandwich. And as I was doing so, I noticed the guy in front of me was ordering three foot long sandwiches…THREE! I would be amazed if they were all for himself, but it’s highly likely he is bringing them for some of his pals in the office…man, I wish I was his friend…that’s a true friend. Throwing you a sandwich, and giving the nod that says; no big deal (even though you BOTH know this is love of the highest kind). Or perhaps even leaving it by their computer with a little post-it note…slightly more sentimental…you could be like, “I love you thiiiiiis much!” Because…foot-long…foot is a measurement…and…alright, that’s only good advice, if you want to be the office weirdo. Apologies.

It was soon my turn, so I snapped out of my usual daydreams, and ordered what I wanted by a mixture of terrible Korean, English, and vividly illustrious pointing. I am a really good pointer…pointing is good in every culture, every country…smile, and point…smile, and point. Sounds like a workout DVD…but seriously, it WORKS. 

“Aaaaahhhh! Meatuh-bol?” YES! She understood! We were in business! Once again the handy old index finger had came in…err…handy…anyway, I watched as she pulled out the bread, I couldn’t help but lick my lips in anticipation…she then cut it in half, and I nodded, almost like I was greeting it…she then opened up the metal tray for the meatballs – so far so good, nothing amiss! 

AND THEN THE WORLD WENT TOPSY-TURVY – STARK, RAVING MAD. PIGS WERE FLYING, I REPEAT – PIGS WERE FLYING.

I did think it was weird she put her hands in the tray…not a scoop, or a spoon…but I wanted to believe that it couldn’t be true. But before I knew it, I could no longer keep lying to myself. She pulled out a few rotten grey, grandpa testicle lookin’ balls, and threw them on the bed…I did one of those mini sick in your mouth things, but held myself together. I began to wonder what parallel universe I had wandered into…what version of hell is this?! The balls were so sad there on the bread, so alone…they were crying out for some marinara sauce…they were screaming, pleading with me…but there was nothing I could do, there was glass between us – it was as if they were on death-row, and I was coming to visit them one last time. But then the prison warden, the sick bastard she was…went, and made it about three hundred times worse…this must be how she gets her kicks…she picked up a mysterious bottle…everything began moving in slow motion…as she squirted lashings of ketchup across the balls, over, and over, and over again…drowning them into oblivion…

…this was served to me with a grin…a cruel, cruel grin…as she held it out to me…“Meatuh-bol!” 

I gazed longingly at the poster next to me…it had been so full of promise – now all I have is a soggy ketchup testicle bun. The horror, THE HORROR! I cried bitterly as I ate it…and spent the rest of the afternoon skipping rocks across a lake, and thinking deep thoughts, about life…and why we are here…and how can there be a God if cruel things like this exist in the world?

I don’t know…it was just a lot to handle…I’m tearing up just re-living it…I have to go…

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