The Sandwich Whisperer

I have had an amusing day. It started off with a job candidate calling the office to berate me for not responding to the emailed resume she sent in two months ago. Now, before you judge me inconsiderate for not responding, know that it’s the policy of the company I work for not to communicate with candidates we are not interested in pursuing. When you get 70 resumes emailed to you every day and 90% are from completely unqualified people it makes more sense to not respond to each and every person.

This candidate who called me, though, she was mad about it. Fighting mad. She started off sweet and obsequious but it soon became clear that she had been slighted and was in need of justice. I, not having been in a stellar mood at the time, did not give her justice. I explained that we didn’t think she fit the skill profile we were looking for but would notify her if a similar position became available.

She was not happy. She ranted for awhile, futilely attempting to send me on a guilt-trip, before I interrupted her by asking, “Why are you telling me this?”. She stuttered for a few moments before responding, “Because I want the job” to which I replied, “Then why are you yelling at the recruiter who is the only person who could schedule an interview for you?”. She was summarily speechless and apologized and I promised I would present her resume to the hiring manager and yadda yadda yadda but seriously, who does that? Why would anyone ever think it was a good idea to yell at a recruiter if they genuinely wanted the job? In what world does that equate to business success?

As peeved as I may seem, my general reaction is one of amused bewilderment. I just can’t wrap my mind around the dubious logic she must have employed before reaching the decision to call me.

Onto stage two of my day: lunch. I ate lunch at Subway today because I was craving some healthy food after my recent spate of candy-consumption due to a candy bowl located too frigging close to my desk. Ahem. Anyway, I ate at Subway. While I was ordering my sandwich I had the most peculiar sandwich artist helping me. I ordered a 6” turkey breast sub but before I could tell him which bread I wanted he just said, “Wheat”. I was going to order the wheat bread, but the Sandwich Whisperer circumvented my answer and ordered it for me.

I was reeling from being in the presence of this Great Sandwich Seer and when I started paying attention to my sandwich again I was appalled at the state of it. Meat crookedly covering the left half of the sandwich. More lettuce on the cutting board than the sub. Tomatoes stacked three high on only one spot. Cheese triangles so small only a mouse could be truly satisfied. This sandwich was a wreck. I thought maybe I’d charm my way into a nicer-looking meal by being nice so I asked the guy how his day was going. He replied, “It’s great! How are you?” and was very warm and friendly. This, in my mind, ruled out sandwich sabotage because the guy was nice (and telepathic about bread) and I hadn’t done anything to provoke a backlash against my lunch.

Then, and there’s always a then in stories like these, as I was paying for my food and looking around I noticed that Subway has a lot of weight-loss propaganda in it. Lots of posters of people with measuring tape and lots of talk of fat grams and whatnot. Next to the register, though, there’s a cookie closet containing delicious lumps of sweet satisfaction. The sign on the cookie closet says, “Just one won’t hurt”. That is some serious psychological warfare going on in that store.

It’s the ultimate embodiment of the nonsensical and contradictory thought process that helps so many people become overweight (myself included). Really, if they were going to be fair to their customers there would be a bear-trap in the cookie closet.

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