Your Preferences Are Not The Toast Of The Town

(My mom and I are at a sandwich shop where multiple workers at different stations make your sandwich. My mom orders, and then I step up to the first station. Neither of us have been to this particular store in a while, but we used to come here fairly regularly and we both end up ordering the same thing we used to get.)

Me: “Can I get a six-inch teriyaki chicken on a flatbread?”

Worker #1: “Sure. Do you want that toasted?”

Me: “No, thanks.”

(She heats up the chicken, then passes the sandwich down to the next worker, who is supposed to put the cooked chicken on it and add vegetables.)

Worker #2: “Toasted?”

Me: “No, it’s not.”

Worker #2: “Toasted?”

Me: *thinking I misheard her in the noisy shop* “Are you asking me if it’s toasted?”

Worker #2: “Yeah.”

Me: “No, it’s not.”

Worker #2: “Do you want it toasted?”

Me: “No, thank you.”

Worker #2: “Are you sure? The flatbreads are better toasted.”

Me: “I’m good, thanks.”

(I order the vegetables, and my mom and I go to the register, where a manager rings us up.)

Manager: “Just so you know, next time, you should toast the flatbread. It helps cook them more; they’re better that way.”

(I don’t respond, but by this point I’m wondering why I’m apparently not allowed to have sandwich preferences. My mom and I pay, sit down, and start to eat our meal.)

Me: “I forgot how good this sandwich is.”

Mom: *jokingly* “How can it be good if it’s not toasted?”