I am in an abusive relationship with the man who makes my sandwiches at Au Bon Pain.

Okay, I know. White people like paying a lot of money for sandwiches.

Well, I don't necessarily like it, but I do it. A lot. I don't know why, exactly. I think mostly because there's an Au Bon Pain in the building next to mine, and it's connected by a bridge, which means I can go to lunch without walking outside in the cold. And we all know how lazy I am. I am so lazy, in fact, that I will willingly and repeatedly make the same mistake of getting my lunch from Au Bon Pain.

I've written about this place before - remember when Megan went on a crusade against their soup choices? Well, now I want to enlist.

I go there a couple of times a week and the same guy makes my sandwich. It's always a disappointing sandwich, considering that it costs seven dollars and forty-two cents (with a Pepsi and a bag of Baked Lays, which we all know really means half a bag of Baked Lays). I think the sandwich-maker is becoming increasingly fed up with his place of employment as much as I am. On Monday, he forgot to put lettuce on my sandwich, which is pretty unforgivable since the only thing I order for my sandwich is chicken, mozzarella, and lettuce. So, in essence, he gave me a chicken and cheese sandwich.

Today, however, he did not forget the lettuce. To wit:


The man gave me more lettuce than sandwich.

He has clearly given up on me and Au Bon Pain. Unfortunately, I have a feeling I'll go back before the end of the week. After all, it's the only place in the vicinity where I can buy Baked Lays.