The Universe Is Telling Me To Make A Packed Lunch
On Mondays, after gymnastics, we go to Subway for lunch with friends. We’ve always driven back from Nottingham to go to our local Subway but recently our friends’ Monday commitments changed and they needed to stay around Nottingham for their afternoon activities. And so, for the last two weeks, we’ve been sampling other branches of Subway. Let me tell you, it has not been a happy time.
The first place we went to, last week, had unbelievably rude staff. I mean monumentally rude. So rude that they must have been trained to be that way because no-one can be that rude by accident. And they didn’t listen so got almost every item we ordered wrong (when seven of us are eating, that’s a lot to get wrong). We decided never to go there again.
Today, I searched Google maps for the nearest Subway to gymnastics. We went there. Big mistake. Firstly, it didn’t occur to me that there would be no seats, but in a busy area of Nottingham I suppose it makes sense that people would be just nipping in to buy a sandwich to take back to work.
All three of my children wanted bacon on their sandwich, but there wasn’t any. Again, completely reasonable and completely down to me not thinking about it. This subway was located in an area with a sizeable Muslim population and of course, bacon is not halal. Instead they had turkey rashers to offer, and after persuading Bean he would like it, he agreed to give it a go (the little two were oblivious to all of this, and I think still are. I ordered them the turkey rashers and neither of them mentioned it not tasting as they expected, so they probably think they had bacon). Bean loved it. It also sparked a conversation about religions and food laws later in the day.
The real problem with this one was that the staff were slow, really slow, and the one doing most of the jobs didn’t appear to have a clue about what to do. Didn’t know how much to put in to each sandwich, or how much anything cost. The till was broken, but he didn’t seem to be able to write anything down on the notepad in front of him or use the calculator to add up and he certainly wouldn’t take my word for it, as I totted up the prices his colleague called out to him. Eventually, another member of staff came out from behind a curtain, looking exasperated and added it all up on the calculator for him. They undercharged us by about £5, but since it had taken him nearly 10 minutes to make three subs, and the people in the growing queue behind me were getting grumpy, I kept quiet.
I think we must have been spoiled by the good service in our local branch. But after gymnastics, there’s a HE science group going on fairly nearby and I wanted to take the children to that. That means our local branch is out of the question – I’m not making an hour long round trip for a sandwich! I guess we’ll be taking a packed lunch from now on.