A Foot-Long Italian, Indeed.



In telling this story, I am admitting that I am the asshole, sitting on their cell phone while ordering at Subway.  In my defense, my friend, Drew, knew what I was doing, so he was “on hold” the entire time I was ordering.  And by “on hold”, I mean a man who sometimes makes $1200/hr was sitting on my phone, listening to me tell a guy who makes $7.25/hr that, yes, I do want more banana peppers on that.

Me: “That one will be a six-inch teriyaki chicken on wheat, please.”

Subway Guy: “Hey, I’m going to put double meat on it, but don’t worry, I won’t charge you.” (wink)

Me: “Oh…um…thanks, that’s very sweet of you.”

Subway Guy: “Go ahead and grab the large cup, too, it’s hot outside.”

Me: “Oh…are you sure?”

Subway Guy: “Yeah, no problem.  You’re in here a lot.” (wink)

Me: “Well…thank you.”

Drew: “Are you getting mother fucking hit on…AT SUBWAY!?”

Me: (walking out) “What?  No!  He’s like 23!”

Drew: “Megan, I’ve seen you get hit on before…granted, this is the first time it was while the other person was wearing plastic gloves.”

Me: “He was just using good customer service, since I’m in there all the time.”

Drew: “Megan, he just gave you ‘double meat’ for free…how much more literal can he get?  I’m surprised he didn’t offer you the ‘other six inches on the house’.”

Me: “Ew.”

Drew: “He was two seconds from offering to give you something else to ‘eat fresh’.”

Me: “Seriously, ewww…you’re ruining my free sandwich upgrade, here.  He was NOT hitting on me.”

Drew: “They don’t offer me free double meat.”

Me: “Yeah, but you’re rich.  And a dick.”

Drew: “What are you wearing?”

Me: “Now, YOU’RE hitting on me.”

Drew: “No, if I was hitting on you, I’d at least have the intelligence to offer you a free cookie.  Anyone who knows you, knows that you’re only slutty for carbs.”

Me: “Why are we friends, again?”

Drew: “Because I write all your prescriptions for free…which you THINK would get me something, but no.”

Me: “Flonase isn’t sexy.”

Drew: “Right.  But fast food cookies…that’s a ticket to romance.”

13 thoughts on “A Foot-Long Italian, Indeed.

    • I usually don’t realize it’s coming until they LITERALLY ask me out, and then, if they’re not someone I would date, I splutter stupidly.

      Super smoth…that’s me.

      And, NO! See, cookies would have gotten him to an under-the-shirt 2nd.

  1. since i haven’t been to subway or been hit on in about 8000 years, i am going to weigh in on this with complete authority. I think he was either hitting on you directly or just testing out some of his hitting on material as a subway employee. based on my vast experience watching commercials (for subway) in my pajamas eating directly from the ben and jerry’s carton, I can think of at least three subway employee segues from their gloved hands to your heart (or your pants – depending how much of their employment they’re willing to put on the line).

  2. No, he wasn’t hitting on you. He just wanted to you grab an extra meat piece, dunk it in the large cup and suck it slowly in front of his face. That’s the least you could have done for two winks.

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