I had biked for 15 miles and was now ready for dinner. I was nearly broke (tomorrow being payday) so I scraped up five or six bucks and went to the local Subway, where the local sandwich artist built me a foot long steak and cheese (cheddar), toasted, with everything except spinach and jalapeños. The lady ahead of me in line was also buying a footlong, so the Subway guy said he’d ring us both up together so we could get the five dollar price on each. Nice!
The lady left, I sat down, the Subway guy went back to cleaning. All was silent except for the classic rock radio.
As I sat in my booth, devouring my sandwich, a guy in a UPS brown uniform came up, stood in the doorway, half-in and half-out, and chatted with his next door neighbor, the Subway guy, for a bit. Apparently his cash register balanced or something, which was unusual, because the UPS guy’s boss had been getting on his ass about it. Subway guy had worked a clopen today, but it was all good because he was taking some time off the next two days (which some may call a weekend - but, believe me, working in the ass end of retail or food prep, weekends don’t always fall on Saturday and Sunday, nor do they happen two days in a row).
It was like a scene out of Clerks. Just two working class guys doing their thing at the end of the day.
And then I smelled the cigarette smoke.
UPS guy was standing in the doorway with a smoking butt in his hand.
I’m so used, now, to going out to restaurants and bars and not smelling burning tobacco that I immediately recognized the smell. And I didn’t like it. Blood sugar low from the bike ride, I snapped out, “Dude! Are you really going to stand there in the door way smoking?”
I had one of those moments, an ohnosecond, where I thought I was going to get my ass kicked, or at least have it turn into a verbal back-and-forth. I sized up the UPS guy: tall, lanky, not overly muscular but he had reach.
However, he was immediately apologetic. “I’m sorry! Does this bother you?”
“Yeah, it bothers me,” I growled. I wondered how friendly UPS and Subway were. Would the Subway guy regret giving me a deal on the sandwich? Would he charge me the difference I hadn’t paid earlier? How big an asshole was I being?
UPS stepped out to the curb and ground out his cigarette, stepped back to the door. “It’s out, now. Sorry.” He seemed generally sheepish and genuinely apologetic.
“Thanks,” I mumbled. I left soon after.
