If we were to go to Subway and it was about a year ago, I would have gotten either a pizza sub or an Italian BMT. 1,000+ calories later, I would have commented on how great Subway tastes and how filling their food is, thanks in part to those delicious sour cream ‘n’ onion chips and chocolate chip cookies, all chased down with a Diet Coke ™ because I didn’t want to overdo it.
We would sit together, you and I, at the Subway restaurant, an establishment made interesting by the constant ebb and flow of gas station customers who walk through the dining room aisles to reach the register and pay for their 87 octane. You would make a comment about how you wish they sold coffee by the gallon like they do fuel (you’re quite witty) and I would follow up with a thoughtful “yeah” (I’m too full to say anything witty, but I still summon the energy to agree with a very good idea). We clink our Subway plastic cups and head off in different directions to finish a day fueled by a custom sandwich. You might have a snack later because, let’s face it, a 6″ sub isn’t all that filling. I would scoff, seeing myself as a food camel, hoping to whittle my meal frequency down to one per day. Not that it would turn out like this today, because there’s still dinner, snack, and pie, all followed by a caffeine-free Diet Coke, so I can get some sleep.
But that was last year.
Yesterday I went to Subway and craved — actually desired in my stomach of stomachs — a turkey sandwich. Not an Italian BMT or a Pizza sub. Not even a Chicken (add bacon) sub. How strange. Suddenly I felt like Jared, the Subway logo who lost a ton of weight by eating this stuff (and, by the way, walking like 2 miles a day to the restaurant and back). Even more, I felt what some people describe as a new craving. Instead of wanting junk, I actually wanted only slightly-junk. Oh, and the chips: because the restaurant was attached to a convenience store (or “C-store” as Sam’s club calls them), I could have easily slid over and gotten some delightful sour cream ‘n’ onion delight. But no. Sun Chips.
I once professed a deep dislike for Sun Chips, what with their corrugated yarn flavoring and lack of grease. But I gotta tell ya… they’re pretty good.
What does all this mean? Does it mean I have the right to brag? No. Goodness no. I hope I’m not sounding like a bragging braggart. I’m just surprised by the fact that something a bunch of skinny people said actually turns out to be true. Your tastes really do change.
Also, turkey makes you really really really tired. A slow afternoon.