Perception is a hell of a drug
I had dinner at Jason’s Deli last night — verdict: not too bad. I liked it enough to go back again. Plus, hey, free ice cream. — and as I reached into the fridge today to get the other quarter of my muffuletta (I was under the impression that it was a type of aquatic mammal but turns out, that’s not the case) I reflected on what the cashier told me about the sandwich.
“What do you mean? Are you telling me it’s not a mammal?”
“No, sir, it’s a sandwich. A rather large sandwich.”
It was at this point that my disbelief almost became my undoing. I tend to think that what some people consider huge is not actually huge to me. This most likely explains my current weight but, I digress. There was something in her eyes that told me that she might actually be serious.
“That’s why we have the half and the quarter size. Most people can’t finish it.”
I hesitated.
“I’ll take the half-size.”
What you see above is the other half of my monstrous sandwich. I took a couple of shots in an effort to try and show scale but I guess I’m just not that talented. I only seemed to highlight the fact that I have fat hands, pudgy fingers, and I could probably stand to cut my fingernails.
So take this as a warning. When you see a Muffuletta on the menu and the cute cashier girl tells you that it’s really big*, believe her.
*I’m not going for the cheap joke here. Even though that was, in fact, what she said.
