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the lady in front of me ordered a grilled cheese on white. i ordered a grilled ham and cheese on wheat. minutes later the cook handed us Styrofoam boxes. we went our separate ways. i stopped to talk with tony near the cash registers. grilled cheese on white walks up, interrupts to say "you have my white, i have your wheat. i could scrape your ham off my white and put it on your wheat.". as she spoke, she was making a scraping motion with her pointer finger across her open palm. she needed a manicure. the melted cheese and ham shavings did not seem as modular as her solution implied.
she seemed angry, i did not know how to respond. her stare made me feel guilty about the white bread in my box. the guilt did not override my fear of her troll fingers performing a hamectomy on my sandwich. i could tell tony found this very amusing. he held back laughter.
"er,... i think i will just stick with what i got" her pinched face and furrowed brow told me she was disappointed in my decision. i briefly thought she might punch me, but she just turned and walked away.
i didn't really enjoy my lunch, it tasted like some one else's sandwich.