Freaky Fast

Jimmy John’s brags about their “Freaky Fast” sandwich delivery in all of their advertisements which is totally fine. Cool, maybe. Unless their shop is located in your neighborhood and you are a finicky old woman stuck in a 35 year old body. When that is the case you are nothing but irritated by the freaky fast delivery drivers who whiz through the streets and skip past stop signs. My inner cranky-old-lady screams “SLOW DOWN” and “That stop sign is there for a reason, jackass!” every time I witness one of the Jerky John’s delivery guys. I scoff at the dents and scratches on their cars. Obviously evidence of erratic driving!

I was so irritated by their reckless behaviors, in fact, that I boycotted their “gourmet sandwiches” almost immediately after they opened the shop down the street from our house.

My boycott has been quite successful for the last couple of years. I managed to avoid eating a JJ sandwich the entire time they’ve been open. I even convinced Brad Pitt to ban them from his own diet.

And then it happened. I started a new part time job a few weeks ago and during one of our orientation shifts my manager bought lunch for everyone.

Jimmy John’s.

[Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck! I’m starving. I need to eat. But its Jimmy John’s. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!]

I was extremely polite. I bit my tongue. Didn’t say a word. And I ate my sandwich. And dammit it was pretty good.

Once Brad Pitt realized I (unwillingly) broke the boycott, he was hot to trot to get a sandwich of his own.

So, yeah, that was about three weeks ago. Since then we’ve each had at least one Jimmy John’s sandwich a week.

Argh. The cranky old bat is slapping me from my insides for how freaky fast Jimmy John’s has become a weekly staple in our household.

And on that note, I wish you a Happy Sandwich Saturday!