A Briny Entry

Well, I didn't expect my next entry to go quite this way. But, after what happened yesterday at lunch I just HAD to make my frustration known to the world. Yes, ladies and jellyspoons, I need to talk about pickles.

You heard me right. Pickles. Evil, briny little beasties. Most of my friends and family are aware of the giant abyss-like divide there is between me and the pickle. So, I hope that my fellow readers can understand my horror when I sat down to eat my sandwich from Togo's and it was COVERED in pickles. Apparently, when I told the Togo's "Sandwich Guru" that I wanted everything on it but absolutely no pickles, that meant that I didn't want tomato, they should hold the onion, but they should put a good handful of those rubbery rounds all over it. When I opened the wrapper, it also appeared that someone had dipped the bottom half of the bread in a vat of pickle juice.

Did I deserve this drive-by pickling? Methinks not. I'm a fairly regular customer at said Togo's considering it's about the closest place to work that offers any kind of edible aid for hungry tummies. Sadly, because we do a lot of ordering for the studio, some of the employees even know my name (and my bread of choice- Onion Herb- for you guys playing the home game). Needless to say, this pickletastrophe really caught me off guard. I wanted to return to the deli, hold my sandwich wrapper open with the offending sandwich in it, look the Togo's Guru in the eye and tearfully say, "Why? How?" But speechless I was, and busy at work too, so I ate what I could (sans soaked bottom roll) and moved on.

This freakish incident will hopefully remain as such, an inconsistency to my normal, happy pickle-free routine. I am, however, watching my back for the next couple of days. If I'm attacked by some sauerkraut, rest assured I'll let you fair readers know and consider it the world's official glove-slapping duel challenge. Engarde!