Wednesday, August 18, 2010

an open letter to my jimmy johns sandwich delivery man

this is embarrassing; a year and countless sandwiches later and i have never once bothered to ask your name. it has now become one of those awkward non-tensions in which i feel that it would bring the non-tension to fruition were i, at this point - so late and so many sandwiches deep in the game - to ask your name, guy.

but this is not about what i should call you when i tell you, jimmy john's sandwich delivery man (you may be jimmy john himself, and that wouldn't stop me from sending this plea out into the ether, still hoping for the occasional free oatmeal raisin surprise in return), that today, you crossed a line.

it started out like any other sandwich delivery; you rapped gently on my open door and breezed in smiling, tall, suspiciously attractive and sane-seeming for a 30-year old sandwich delivery man. no! do not for a moment think i am condescending; you seem - from the two times i've called at the last minute to add sandwiches to my usual order (sometimes i have FRIENDS, okay! a fact i felt very foolish about pointing out when you confirmed the additional sandwich orders) - to be the manager of the franchise.

i'll bet your bicycle is extremely lightweight and sexy looking.

your ruddy complexion and very nice calves suggest you remain active, healthy, maybe going camping or to the beach with a frequency i'd be sure to envy. the point is, jimmy john, i know you do not spend all your time making sandwiches and waiting to deliver them to me.

in the last year, i suspect we have developed a fondness for and comfort with one another. i give you pens, on occasion. i have so many! you give me sandwiches, i tip you well. we occasionally banter about things that aren't even the weather! one time, we talked in hilarious vagaries and assorted euphemisms about my obvious hangover. jimmy john, we've had some times.

i like it when you deliver my sandwiches and i've not a single design on quitting sandwiches any time soon; if my suspicions are correct and you are indeed the frachise manager of your particular jimmy john's location, you probably aren't not going to be delivering my sandwiches any time soon. we need to clear the air before this tension destroys the delicate balance of our sandwich delivery man/sandwich delivery enthusiast relationship.

never, ever, ever again say to me anything remotely resembling what you said to me upon delivering my sandwich at 2pm today:
this is kind of a late lunch for you.

look, james johnathan. i appreciate that you appreciate the regularity of my consumption, but this? this confirms what i must have known for ages now in my brain of hearts to be true, which is that i'm so clearly sinking into a sandwich-lined pit of urban despair and consumer predictability. my sandwich today tasted of the sour sting of ideological defeat. 

is this my american dream, jj? is my slice of the pie to include dijon and arrive promptly to my office by 11:30 two to three times a week? am i fulfilling the dreams of my forefathers with every click on "confirm order," every self-satisfied end-of-transaction sigh toward the promise of satiation? am i sure i know what happiness is, or means? is it simply a word like so many other words and is it a word i ought spend so much time considering? why do i get so peevish about language and what i perceive to be a gross disrespect paid it by countless internet emoticon artists? why don't i spend more time focusing on my own capitalization and less time hating acronyms? isn't my tan amazing this year? should i get a teaching certificate? do i eat enough vitamin d? should i have moved back to california all those years ago? do they even have jimmy john's in california? avocado season, like all things, must come to an end and sooner than i'd think - what then? what will my reliable party dip be then? jim, what happened to us? what happened?

all told, i suppose, if i'm to be mired here in neurotic, twenty-something limbo grappling my way toward self-actualization, i may as well continue to have sandwiches.

forget i said anything, jimmy john. i'll see you next monday. the usual time.

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