This afternoon, in an attempt to keep up my healthy new eating habits, I decided to run by Subway. Subway is attached to a BP close to my house, so I can be there and back in 10 minutes. (A definite plus.) I walked into the store feeling rather dazed from working all night, and only getting a few hours of sleep. As I'm waiting for the "Sandwich Artist" to acknowledge my presence a woman in front of me turns around and noticeably stares at me. There I am in mismatched shorts and t-shirt, flip-flops from 5 years ago, hair in a knot, and sans makeup. I'm looking rough, and wondering to myself if this lady really wanted to push me over the edge? I'm tired from lack of sleep, craving a doublecheese burger, fries, and a REAL pop, and seriously considering downing the entire box of twinkies that are resting peacefully on the shelf to my right, I'm exuding the DON'T MESS WITH THIS vibe that I've learned from watching countless hours of BET. But alas, the staring continued, and then she began stomping her foot on the ground, like a bull getting ready to charge. Either this woman was psychotic, or was another of the masses who were offended by my "gothic" black nail polish. (Darn, why did I leave my trench at home again.) I thanked God that I didn't work there when she ordered half the store, then literally almost sang the types of veggies she wanted. I concealed my laughter with a few well timed coughs, and practically ran out of the store before I heard another foot stomp. I hope that this woman seeks the medical attention that is most definitely necessary...as for me, I enjoyed my low-cal dinner, and am happily on my way to diet utopia.
