I had a most frustrating visit to my local Subway. I'm not a huge fan of the place, but every now and then I crave a chipotle steak & cheese sandwich. They're not so great, fo sure, but they're like chicken mcnuggets: sometimes u just gotta have em. But a foot long sandwich doesn't have quite enough "steak" for this carnivore. But "double meat" is a ridiculous amount. So once, I successfully got them to add 1.5 times the meat and paid just $1 more (the fee for double meat on a 6" sandwich). Simple and makes sense, right?
Well, I've successfully gotten this to happen once. And my sandwich was perfect. Now my request is met with blank stares as if I somehow asked them to recite the quadratic equation or the atomic weight of boron. I don't even think I'm being all that picky. You grab 3 little baggies of meat instead of 2 or 4 and charge me $1 extra. Is this really so hard to comprehend?
Most of the time, I just don't think the clerks understand any words, other than what's on the menu. Anything else is just beyond comprehension. It's not that I expect rocket scientists working the counter, but being able to comprehend simple concepts in English should be a prerequisite.
Once I think I might have been met with comprehension there. He said he couldn't do it. The register wouldn't let him. (a) I don't buy that. I bet there's a button marked '6" double meat' that adds a buck; (b) it's seriously not my fucking problem. I'm paying nearly $10 for a stupid, crappy sandwich, you figure out how to make it happen. That's why you're a thinking, rational human being.
I think the truth is, I'm asking for something slightly unconventional, and they just only comprehend enough English to get by. Truth be known: I'm totally okay with that, if ONE person employed there could jump in to explain my request. But NO ONE there can. And my Spanish-102 and 4 years of HS French aren't enough to get the point across. And since I'm the customer, I think it only reasonable to expect someone to be able to take my order! I finally, out of frustration, got double meat. Now I sit here with a whole cow sitting in my stomach. Got milk?
Ok I'm done.<RANT>
So today I left the blissful 70-degree Santa Monica weather and trekked over to the hill into the valley (cue "doom" music), where upon exiting my car, I was greeted by 105-degree heat hitting me in the face. Resisting the urge to get back into the car and go back to civilization, I barely made it to the door to the parts department of Miller Infiniti.
The cheap, plastic part to hold my front license plate was $41. Yikes. Fortunately I brought my "15% off genuine Infiniti factory accessories" coupon. "This isn't a factory accessory." I thought maybe it was an after-market part as I know the dealer installs them on new cars. Fine, he wants to split hairs. Oddly enough, the part clearly has a "Nissan Infiniti" sticker and part number on it. Leading me to two conclusions: parts sales guy is an idiot, and I probably could have bought this for half the price at Santa Monica Nissan.
But, my car is melting outside, and I really just want to put this behind me and fix this. I take my parts home, put on a wife beater and old shorts. Grab my tools, all butch, and head for the garage. The longest part of the operation was searching for the stupid keyed allan wrench to take off the old license plate! Everything went well. My car looks fantabulous again (except for the small scratches on the passenger side from the fence that attacked me). I can't believe the insurance adjuster estimated the repair at $500. Why they wanted to remove the bumper to fix a hole that stays hidden behind a license plate frame is beyond me.
/me pats himself on the back