I Knew You Knew
About 13 years ago or so, I was playing drums for an already established punk band whose drummer was leaving. Prior to leaving, the band had recorded a 2nd full length album and they were trying to solidify a label and name the record. As the newest member, I wanted to attempt to place a small bit of my own stamp on the record since I was late for the actual recording. As a half-joke, I thought it would be funny and different to name the album "Brian Eating A Sandwich", having the album cover art donning myself eating a sandwich. I lobbied for the title for a while and even made homemade bumper stickers with the band name and fake album title, handing them out to friends.
The album never got released (to my knowledge) and if it ever did, "Brian Eating A Sandwich" was not the album's namesake. However, the unused album title spoke to a very real phenomenon - my love of the sandwich. Particularly, the deli sub sandwich. In a manner similar to that of "Jon" on Delocated, I have been known to experience the occasional "grinder high". Or as my friend Joe has said, "Bread…you can't fuck with it."
For as much as I enjoy the independently-owned sandwich shop, I have been known to frequent the litany of corporate chains as well. Starting with Subway and moving through each additional chain, I've tried them all many a time. In the last year, a new sub chain has emerged and captured my taste buds with everything from the tongue-tingling oils combined with the crackling crust of the bread (see what I did there?). The place is called Jersey Mike's and in a nutshell, it is pretty good. I have gone so far as to refer to them as "food of the Gods".
However, Jersey Mike's is not without its flaws. In the past decade or so, it seems that more and more corporate food chains are jockeying to appear the least corporate-y. In addition, each new chain seems to be employing this manufactured personality tsunami on their unsuspecting customer base. At one, it was ringing a bell and singing a quick "thank you" for choosing their establishment. Another would do the most annoying in-unison greeting that made me want to ask the person behind the counter to describe every menu item in detail, only to leave to go elsewhere. Jersey Mike's employs a different strategy altogether.
At a glance, Jersey Mike's has to traditional deli glass case to appeal to a bygone era of neighborhood deli's. While they could easily leave it at that, they take it a step further back in time and they force their employees to engage you in pointless chatter while you watch them assemble your sandwich. Rather than take your order and just get it together, the guy who personally slices you bread just has to ask how the wife and kids are doing. Instead of just putting the fucking lettuce and tomato down on the bread, the vegetable guy wants to know how you feel about the insert-random-sports-franchise trading away some marginal role player for two young prospects.
It doesn't stop there. Sitting at the table finishing up one's lunch cannot go uninterrupted. Rather than being able to enjoy one's manufactured home-y goodness in peace, the apron-donned franchisee who is clearly too old to be making sandwiches for a living for a faceless fast food corporation just has to dip his wrinkly head in your face to check in on the deliciousness of their product.
Society seems to be getting more personal. Moreover, it seems to be trending towards insincere forced engagement. Naturally, people become social voluntarily when certain factors align. Maybe in some lame attempt to shed some of the faceless-corporation veneer, companies are creating this lame atmosphere where hired hands are being trained to pretend to be interested in your day. From my end, the ploy is obvious and in return, I'm less than interested in telling the person in the mesh sandwich hat and matching polo shirt how much I miss my dog. I really just want to eat my fucking sandwich.
The album never got released (to my knowledge) and if it ever did, "Brian Eating A Sandwich" was not the album's namesake. However, the unused album title spoke to a very real phenomenon - my love of the sandwich. Particularly, the deli sub sandwich. In a manner similar to that of "Jon" on Delocated, I have been known to experience the occasional "grinder high". Or as my friend Joe has said, "Bread…you can't fuck with it."
For as much as I enjoy the independently-owned sandwich shop, I have been known to frequent the litany of corporate chains as well. Starting with Subway and moving through each additional chain, I've tried them all many a time. In the last year, a new sub chain has emerged and captured my taste buds with everything from the tongue-tingling oils combined with the crackling crust of the bread (see what I did there?). The place is called Jersey Mike's and in a nutshell, it is pretty good. I have gone so far as to refer to them as "food of the Gods".
However, Jersey Mike's is not without its flaws. In the past decade or so, it seems that more and more corporate food chains are jockeying to appear the least corporate-y. In addition, each new chain seems to be employing this manufactured personality tsunami on their unsuspecting customer base. At one, it was ringing a bell and singing a quick "thank you" for choosing their establishment. Another would do the most annoying in-unison greeting that made me want to ask the person behind the counter to describe every menu item in detail, only to leave to go elsewhere. Jersey Mike's employs a different strategy altogether.
At a glance, Jersey Mike's has to traditional deli glass case to appeal to a bygone era of neighborhood deli's. While they could easily leave it at that, they take it a step further back in time and they force their employees to engage you in pointless chatter while you watch them assemble your sandwich. Rather than take your order and just get it together, the guy who personally slices you bread just has to ask how the wife and kids are doing. Instead of just putting the fucking lettuce and tomato down on the bread, the vegetable guy wants to know how you feel about the insert-random-sports-franchise trading away some marginal role player for two young prospects.
It doesn't stop there. Sitting at the table finishing up one's lunch cannot go uninterrupted. Rather than being able to enjoy one's manufactured home-y goodness in peace, the apron-donned franchisee who is clearly too old to be making sandwiches for a living for a faceless fast food corporation just has to dip his wrinkly head in your face to check in on the deliciousness of their product.
Society seems to be getting more personal. Moreover, it seems to be trending towards insincere forced engagement. Naturally, people become social voluntarily when certain factors align. Maybe in some lame attempt to shed some of the faceless-corporation veneer, companies are creating this lame atmosphere where hired hands are being trained to pretend to be interested in your day. From my end, the ploy is obvious and in return, I'm less than interested in telling the person in the mesh sandwich hat and matching polo shirt how much I miss my dog. I really just want to eat my fucking sandwich.
A-fucking-men! Great sandwiches but those chatter box employees need to shut the fuck up. I hate forced small talk so much. It's just god damn uncomfortable.
ReplyDelete