Subway Be My Friend Tonight. Subway Be My Friend Tonight.

I curse the gods for putting a Subway so close to my apartment. On most days  I despise this place with all that I am. When sober, I would never step foot in this establishment for the sole reason that my clothing will smell like strange bread for the remainder of the day. Yet on certain occasions I can’t help but to remember that Subway has gotten me out of some serious jams. Airport hunger, yes. However in this instance I am referring to late night adventures gone wrong. As a human, I realize sometimes the body can no longer function unless you give it substance. Vodka soda… regrettably not on the sustainability list.  Subway is my only late night friend… a friend who will always be there for me, nourish me, offer me chocolate milk and such. Subway is my new BFF? If so then FML…. Fuck Mel’s Life™.

It’s plausible the only reason I have this new friend is because the location by my place is now open 24 hrs. It’s green and yellow fluorescent sign glares into my window late at night.  I can feel it presence, constantly taunting me, calling out my name. “Help me Cold Cut-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope“.

Note: Would Subway please introduce a 9 inch sub option already? For the love of god, clearly 6 inch’s is a child’s sandwich. 12 inches are for boheims and Americans. Please.  And by earlier stating FML I am referring to Mel Gibson’s life. His actual life. Clearly our lives could not be any worse then his at this point in time. I can’t believe this is the same man that brought us Braveheart.

I never want to eat alone. I never want to see her eat alone.

Subway. Everywhere. Gross.

Darkness.

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