Edible Grenades only $5.50!!

Some of my half dozen (AKA 1-3) infrequent readers, may sometimes wonder as they peruse the latest gibberish found in this blog, exactly what the purpose is of it all. What possess a person to spend otherwise useless time typing out meaningless observations? This latest blog provides no answer to this question:

I’ve been somewhat of a refugee recently during my 30 minutes of allotted lunch time, abandoning my typical Subway sandwich and venturing into the limited, yet interesting, assortment of other inexpensive eateries in town who can crank out a cheap sandwich or plate of food in under 10 minutes. Today I decided to give old Bill’s Pizza a shot again, after a 3 month furlough from my belly.

Bill’s is authentic as they come; cheap sandwiches, smokes, beef jerky, rude jokes, unkempt grounds, local-yokels, and the occasional attitude. It’s the one stop a lot of the blue-collared crowd in Yarmouth makes in a day. There’s nowhere to sit, standing room only. Park the truck wherever you can fit it, haul ass inside and to the counter (it’s always busy) where a friendly sandwich professional will assist you in designing your lunch, grab a refreshment from the cooler, maybe a whoopee pie from the shelf and a paper from the bin, pay whatever the cashier feels like charging you, and get the fuck back in the truck! You’re eating alone in your vehicle again!

For one 2 month stretch I ate nothing for lunch except a customized turkey “Italian” (Mainer for a long sandwich), tricked out with a little garlic powder, some diced onions, sliced mushrooms fresh from the can, room temperature mayo, oil-based provolone, Greek olives and a trip through the oven via the Pizza Belt Express. The sandwich plays every chord of satisfaction when coupled with a fizzy beverage, but after the greasy-ecstasy is over, the belly starts wondering exactly what the hell was just consumed. It’s a feeling that only weeks and weeks of consistent consumption can eliminate. Today marked the first time in weeks and weeks that set foot in Bill’s and my stomach; spoiled with the fresh array of Subway vegetables, was like a virgin to the eminent effects of this monster sandwich.

It’s time to get back on that horse and assault the system with another edible grenade tomorrow afternoon. The spoils of Subway have long lost their wholesome appeal.