Unfiltered Story #260423

I am walking home pass a family-owned sub shop that is not associated with any chain. I’m hungry and feeling too tired to cook so I decide to try the place. The door is propped open but the place is completely empty. I go back to the door to check the hours and it says that they’re currently open. I read the menu board, decide what I want and then wait a few minutes in one of the seats, happy for the chance to sit down before the rest of my walk home. I am thinking that the employee might currently be in the restroom and I don’t want to disturb them if that’s the case. Eventually, I realize that it is doubtful anyone is going to show up on their own. I go and stand in front of the counter.

Me: “Hello?”

No answer.

Me: *speaking a bit louder now* “Hello? Is anyone here? I’d like to order something.”

A young woman comes shuffling out the back hunched over her cellphone. She puts it down next to the sink, washes her hands, and walks up to the counter.

Worker: *sighing* “What do you want?”

Me: “I’d like to order a sub, please.”

Worker: “Obviously. What sub do you want.”

Me: “I would like a small BLT—“

Worker: *sounding annoyed* “No, no, no! I keep telling people, BLTs don’t come in small. They don’t come in large. They only come in medium!”

Me: “Ummm, it doesn’t say that on the menu board?”

Worker: *looking very grumpy* “It’s out of date. We’re going to update it soon.”

I’m thinking they might have a special bread they use for the BLTs or something. And I just want my bacon sandwich. So I tell her that’s fine and start to move down the counter to where I’ll choose my toppings.

Worker: “Excuse me, EXCUSE ME! You have to tell me if you want your sub on white or brown bread. White or brown! Understand?”

Me: *trying to stay polite* “I didn’t know I had a choice. White, please.”

This is where it starts to just get bizarre. The young woman takes a normal, twelve inch sandwich bread from a bag, cuts maybe two inches off the end of it, and then chucks the discarded bread into the trash can. I’m just staring at her.

Worker: “Well?! What do you want on it?”

Me: “Lettuce, please, and tomato—“

Worker: “Obviously! What else?”

I list off the rest of my toppings, which she adds, still not having added either the lettuce or the tomato. I then tentatively mention this.

Work: “I’ll add those at the end! With the bacon! That’s how we make BLTs here.”

She finishes making my strange-length sub, thankfully having added all the toppings without further prompting from me or fuss from her. She starts packing my sub up in a bag without even asking if I wanted to eat there. I notice she’s added a can of pop to the bag also.

Me: “Hey! Sorry, I didn’t want to buy a drink, I—“

Worker: *cutting me off for the umpteenth time* “BLTs come with pop! It’s included in the price.”

Me: “Well, in that case, could I get a cream soda, I don’t really like—“

Worker: “BLTs come with [cola drink]! That’s how we serve them here!”

Me: “Okay, then…”

As I go to pay at the cash register I notice that the price of the sub with the pop included is actually the same price as a small BLT is listed for on the menu board. The sub was actually pretty darn tasty but the service was so strange that I haven’t been back since.