Showing posts with label Subway. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Subway. Show all posts

Debate: Subway

By Jake & Glenn 

The fast food submarine (AKA: hoagie, grinder and hero) sandwich shop Subway has long been a point of contention between Glenn and myself. As a gift he once received $1,000,000 worth of Subway gift certificates and ate at Subway for nearly every meal. Although he was a gift card millionaire, his personal finances were not so robust. His only choices were to eat at Subway or pick rotten fruits and vegetables out of the heaps of trash lining Missouri's streets. Now Glenn has become a successful entrepreneur and has the resources to eat at more upscale nosheries like Quiznos. I grew up dining at Subway, and my childhood eating habits have stuck with me. Subway is an integral part of my life, much like alcohol and heroin are to yours. Now, here's the debate:

Jake: While I rarely eat at restaurants, and practically never eat fast food, I have to say that Subway is by far the best restaurant on Earth. They have many fine choices, which is more than I can say about Little Caesar's (which has only three choices: cheese, sausage and pepperoni). As a pescatarian, I have limited choices at nearly every restaurant which I dine, so for Subway to have even two choices for me is jaw-dropping--and they have three (seafood, veggie and tuna)! Let us not forget that Subway also lets you choose what goes on your sandwich while the sandwich crafters assemble it. It gives you all the benefits of making your own sandwich without any of the hard work and you get a conversation. Better yet, the discussion is mostly one sided with you bossing around the teen around while they listlessly make your grinder. Whenever I feel like I have lost control of my life, I like to imagine myself at Subway demanding some teenage girl to add more tomatoes to my sandwich, even if it is more tomatoes than common sense should allow, and she can't say anything to me because I'm the customer and I'm always right. No other restaurant fills you with that sense of power while having you do so little work.

Glenn: I'm completely in favor of dominating teenage girls, but good luck on getting more tomatoes on that sandwich. Those girls, and the rest of the underclass who comprise Subway's work force, receive strict instructions on how many tomatoes to give to slack-jawed idiots who came in looking for a "sammich." You can ask for more tomatoes in the same way we can ask for god's forgiveness and you'll get the same result: nothing. I too recognize the appeal of a veggie delight sandwich. Unlike my opponent, I am fully committed to animal rights and will not rest until animals can serve alongside me in the United Stated Armed Forces or in the jury box during a celebrity's criminal trial. This means I do not eat them. If I walked into a Subway with a plan to order a veggie delight, I would be shocked to see live animals in their backroom being murdered by undocumented workers from Mexico and other countries below the United States. Subway serves only the freshest meat, which means the stench of death permeates the air. The decor matches this stench, as most Subways look horrendous from the outside and inside. As a gay man with an eye for interior decorating, I would like to redesign all Subways.

Jake: I agree with you to a degree about the decor. The inside of Subway has not been updated since I was a child eating steak and cheese subs. Now that I am an unsuccessful adult, I mainly enjoy dining in ultra-modern eateries. Yet, there is a charm to the ornamentation of the innards of Subway that takes me back to the days where I could do anything with my life instead of nothing. In a way, eating at Subway is a substitute for the anti-depressants I so desperately need but cannot seem to afford no matter how much plasma I sell.

I also agree that Subway uses only the freshest of ingredients, and unlike you I see this as a positive. I enjoy eating fresh food, which is why I have an herb garden. Much like Subway, gardening gives me the solace that I cannot seem to find in a bottle or needle. I would actually go as far to say that instead of giving junkies methadone, we should just take them to Subway. Afterall, it worked for Jared.

Glenn: I'm glad you brought up Jared. What a fucking phony. He's going around telling everyone he got thin because of Subway, but he never mentions the fact that he had his stomach stapled as well. Surely eating a veggie delight helps you lose some weight, but not as much as whatever it means to have your "stomach stapled." Subway was one of the few restaurants allowed on the island of Guatanamo Bay in Cuba and I understand why. Subway's food does to my stomach what Presidents Bush and Obama have done, using that island, to the rule of law in this country. One time I ate a Subway sandwich and then woke up in Yemen while imprisoned. And this was under Obama! Losing my civil liberties doesn't taste good and neither does much of Subway's bread, which is as stale as Paula Poundstone's comedy routine. At Subway I usually ask for a "little" lite mayonnaise but end up with so much that I can barely force myself to eat the sandwich. But at least I'm still eating, unlike the prisoners at Guantanamo who went on a hunger strike to protest their conditions. I'm not that brave.

Jake: Whoa, I think you are taking this a bit too far. I know that if I could not eat Subway I would commit suicide by lighting myself on fire and suffocating from all of the oxygen in my lungs burning away. Subway simply makes life tolerable. Whenever my boss yells at me for misfiling the Johnson report (this is a euphemism for accidental and unintentional anal sex), I picture a 12 inch submarine sandwich from Subway sliding down my throat--and the mayonnaise is the lubricant that allows this to happen. The teen sandwich creator probably thinks your request for a "little lite mayonnaise" was a comedy bit, because who would want just a little of anything? I always order the largest size of everything I purchase, which sometimes can be a problem when it comes to buying $800 suits, but is amazing when I'm watching the latest hit movies on an IMAX screen. Doing things in moderation is for people who think small. My motto/mantra is: think big, live big, live forever. Subway is just one peg in that plan, but if you removed it, my life would topple over like a Jenga board during Michael J. Fox's turn.

Glenn: Insults towards Parkinson's victims aside, you have revealed the reason you stand so adamantly in defense of Subway: their footlong sandwiches. Spending $5.00 for twelve inches of food might sound good in theory and the growing corporate profits of Subway certainly indicate people's willingness to participate in such a program. However, we must keep in mind how many better sandwiches are available in this great country and not let the five dollar price tag blind us like NY Governor David Patterson. Off the top of my head, I can name three better sandwich places than Subway. They are W.G. Grinder's, Quizno's and Blimpie's. The last time I was at Blimpie's, I got a delicious "blimp" sandwich, with vegetables as exotic as avocado and squash. The last time I saw an avocado at a Subway, he/she was ordering a veggie delight ("avocado" is a new slur for hermaphrodites). Afterward I was fellated in the bathroom by a male Blimpie's employee. I've never been fellated in a Subway by a man or woman and wouldn't want such a beautiful act to happen in their disgusting bathrooms. Fuck Subway and fuck the thousand sandwiches I've eaten there since November 2008.

Hi Katy [Volume II, Issue XIV]

By Katy



Hi Katy,
I just became a vegetarian and all I eat is riblets. I used to eat at Subway all the time and listen to Blind Melon as I chewed delicious sandwiches. Now all I do is eat riblets and iron my shirts. Can you share with me some recipes or point me in the right directions of being healthy?
-Ryan Riblet

Hi Ryan,

Becoming a vegetarian shouldn't greatly effect your enjoyment of Blind Melon whilst chewing delicious sandwiches. I happen to be a very big fan of colby jack cheese sandiwches with some romaine, onion, and a touch of yellow mustard or pesto spread. Perhaps some sprouts now and again. Toss in a little pepper jack to spice things up. And Subway already has you covered... they have a vegetarian sandwich they'll charge you $4 for despite being able to make the very same thing at home twenty times over for $4. But they roast it and stuff.

I don't really believe in sharing recipes.

A.) My recipe box is in my head, right where it belongs so no one eats delicious Katy food but this gal.

B.) Sharing recipes takes me back to a time when women stood around the kitchen baking, barefoot and pregnant, until their husbands came home to cram that food down their faces without even tasting the hard work and spam that went into it, farted, then went outside to drink whiskey with "the boys" and complain about President Eisenhower while the women stayed behind, in their kitchens, picking up the shattered remains of their happiness, diginity, and favorite China serving dish. I realize you're probably too young to remember these times, but trust me, they weren't pretty.

If you want to be healthy you're going to have to show inititive. I'm here for counsel and advice, but I can't drag you the gym and make you do twenty minutes of solid eliptical work. I just don't have the time.


Hi Katy,
My TV is broken. I don't nkow if it's worth getting fixed, or if people even fix TVs anymore. Maybe that was something from the 50s when TVs cost $400 and $400 was worth $45,000. Anyway, how am I supopse to watch my stories if I don't have a TV? What are some good TVs? Should I get a flat one or do they even make the flat ones anymore? I'm no TV technician, which is why I'm writing this question to you in the first place. Save me Katy!
-Tammy (not a) TV Technician

Hi Tammy,

I don't know anything about TVs. I only use mine to play video games once every four months. You know where you can get a TV? My apartment. I'm getting a projector soon and will no longer have any need for the twenty year old TVs I have piling up in my place. If you want my advice, you'll get a projector, and here's why.

TVs are stupid. I mean, they can be great and all, but they're getting more and more difficult to repair. There are plenty of people out there that still repair TVs, it's just now they look at them, shrug, charge you $557.43 and return to their Xbox 360s in their lavished condos.

Therefore, great places to get TVs include:

  • My apartment
  • Goodwill
  • Other consignment shops/buildings
  • Your neighbor's garage
  • A hotel room (this will only work if your credit card/ID is not the one on file)
  • Your mother's basement (Please also see: Corner Pawn Store/Crack House Consignment).
  • Elementary schools (after dark)



Really, if you don't want to spend the money on a new TV, your best option is to make some friends at the local nursing home. Learn to play gin and start visiting some old people; they'll be watchin' some stories. Enjoy your new found old person small.

Hi Katy,
How are you doing today? It seems like everybody is talking about World Cup Soccer this and Stanley Cup that. When are people going to learn that sports are nothing but unhealthy competition that tears the world apart into various sports teams? I wish we could just come together and hug. I would hug you Katy, because you give great advice and you're probably cuddly. Anyway, while I don't agree with sports, I'm firmly behind gambling. Do you have any hot picks for the World Cup or should I just ask some Mexican or African dude who they think will win? They'll probably go with Mexico or Africa, but what if they were right?
-Soccer Samuel

Hi Samuel,

They're most likely to be right. I can see your grievance with the whole country (and world) being preoccupied with various sporting teams and such, but I think you should also realize that a lot of your point-of-view is strictly from being an American. Yes, I know that the Irish and English and Hispanics and Canadians can go nuts over their respective teams and sporting country pride, but American's lives revolve around sports. We find our worth in how many times Brett Farve can come out of retirement. Now that's clearly stupid.

But the World Cup? The World Cup is a wonderful time of year when everyone can get together. WheN Americans can pretend they actually give a shit about soccer and all of a sudden friends who have mocked my soccer love for years are taking time off work to watch 'the' game at the Londerer. Assholes. If there's any sport that can take the delicate balance of sports team pride and toss it all together with the love we have for our fellow brothers and sisters in other countries and then yellow card it, it's soccer.

Was that the point? What was the point.... well I'm certainly cuddly, that's for true. Umm... I feel like this was suppose to go somewhere but I just really don't know where. Oh, oh, right. Ask a Brazilian, African, and an Iranian who's going to win the World Cup -- gamble on whatever best out of 3 is. Good luck.

Divine Subway Intervention




By Bub 

Bill waited at the Monroe Street subway platform. He'd gotten off work early to go to a dentist appointment on the Northwest side of the city. The platform was relatively empty. An older gentleman resembling Columbo approached. He stood next to Bill, waiting.

"Jeez, I love the subway, you know?" The old man said in a Peter Falk voice while leaning in Bill's direction but without looking toward him.

Bill shook his head in agreement glancing at the old man slightly, unsure if the man was addressing him. There was no one else in proximity.

"Yea, subways are a terrific way to get around underground. In fact, you could say they're the best." The old man said leaning toward Bill again, this time giving Bill a sideways glance at the end as though the last statement was meant as some kind of test.

Bill caught the old man's glance, nodded again, and said "Yep."

The old man smiled, still hunched toward Bill, and stuck out his hand for a shake. "The name's Marion. Marion Miles. You know a lot of times when I tell people my name they say 'Marion, like a girl?' And I say, 'No, Marion like John Wayne'."

Bill shook Marion Miles' hand.

"You a fan of The Duke?" Marion asked.

Without waiting for a reply Marion continued.

"You know, The Duke, now HE was a big fan of subways. Used to ride 'em everywhere when he was underground. Of course, they wouldn't allow horses down in them tunnels, you see."

Bill pursed his lips, pushed out his chin and raised his eyebrows. He shook his head in acknowledgment the way you do when you hear familiar words but have no idea what they are supposed to mean when put together in that particular order.

"Yea, no horses down here, no sir," said Marion, "Of course you could probably get into one of them giant caverns they got down south on one. But why would you want to, I mean, everyone knows the best way to navigate them is by underground canoe."

Bill glanced down the track to see if the train was arriving yet.

"Yes sir, my pop used to tell me, growing up, he'd say, 'Son, subways are the underground canoes of the future.'"

Marion paused briefly in deep reflection.

"He'd ALWAYS say that, even when it wasn't particularly appropriate. He'd get this real distant look in his eyes. 'Dad, you coming' to my baseball game this afternoon?' And real wistfully, 'Son, subways are the underground canoes of the future.' ... 'I love you, dad.' ... 'Son, subways are the underground canoes of the future.'... Strange man he was."

Bill made an uncomfortable face that made him look as though he was trying to eat his own smile.

"Ha! That's a joke, son. My dad never really said that. I just thought I would tie those two disparate ideas together in an absurd context for the sake of our amusement. But, yea, subways are the best I tell ya."

Bill laughed nervously. The subway approached.

Marion lit up. He held onto to his Fedora and his trench coat began to flap in the turbulence. "Eh, this is great aint it!!?!" Marion yelled.

The train came to a stop.

"Oh man, what a world young man." Marion said shaking his head in awe and disbelief.

The subway doors opened. Bill got on. Marion stayed back on the platform.

"Hey fella," Marion shouted, "underground canoes of the future..." and made exaggerated pointing motions toward the subway.

The doors shut. As the train took off Bill watched in wonderment as Marion disintegrated into the air.

Bill never took the subway again.