Tuesday, March 03, 2009


My sandwich guy thinks I'm easy.

At least, that's what he told me (and anyone else who happened to overhear) when I showed up at his sandwich counter in the office cafeteria the other day.

He and I are friendly enough. I appreciate him because he makes me sandwiches (and you know I love sandwiches) and he seems to appreciate me because I am his harbinger for the close of the workday. When I show up shortly before 2pm (late lunches make for shorter afternoons, people! try it!) his eyes light up with recognition that his shift is almost over.

Sometimes, when he spies me, he'll grin and say, "Hey, hey - whenever I see you I know the end is near!"

But the other day, he announced, "I like you. You're easy."

Uhhhhhhh. Hmmmmm?

Of course I'm sure he meant 'easy' as in 'easy-going,' as in 'I don't order complicated sandwich creations and make his life unduly difficult.' That kind of easy. Not the other kind of easy.

One hopes that everyone else in line at the sandwich counter that day also understood his intended meaning. Seeing as I'm pretty much at the opposite end of the spectrum from that other kind of easy, I'd hate to be accused of false advertising.

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