I awoke today with news that Jimmy John’s was selling subs for $1. Problem: only 30 minutes of this promotion was left on the clock. How long will the line be? How many sandwiches can I order at each Jimmy John’s? How many Jimmy John’s are in Austin? No time, just go. I stepped astride my beloved bike, whose middle name is Shadowfax, and we rode like the Meaning of Haste was our favorite movie that we had seen so many times we were kinda over it.
First JJ’s: Oh shit there’s a line. Of course there is. How do I wait faster? I go up to order. I fluff my lines. I want a #5, as many as possible, but how many is too many? Will I seem a rude opportunist if I order four? Maybe I should throw a #3 in there so it seems like I’m not just ordering for myself. OH GOD THE MOB BEHIND ME IS GETTING ANTSY. The cashier staunches the flow of excitable garbage coming out of my mouth to tell me there’s a limit of one per customer. I accept because I have to, feeling cheated although I am getting a tasty sandwich for a dollar, and soon the meat torpedo is out of my dreams and in my hands, into my bag and I’m ready to hit the next JJ’s.
Second JJ’s: There is a man outside with a dire warning: “Two minutes left! Two minutes!” By the time I dismount Z. Shadowfax it’s down to one minute with oh god how many seconds?? No time to lock up. Sandwiches. I make the cut, just: I am the last $1 customer! I get to the counter and order, “Five #5’s, please.” Fuck the rules. They give me one and I take it greedily. I rush out the door and my bike is not stolen.