A Turkey Sub with Everything, Except Black Olives

I was on my way out the door to the "sub" shop down the road the other day when I stopped and randomly asked a co-worker if he wanted anything. I did it to be polite, not expecting him to take me up on the offer, but he did. Which made me wonder why he didn't catch my "don't really take me up on this offer" vibe? Regardless, I chalked it up to my good deed for the day, and hit the road excited it was lunch time.

"I want a turkey sub on wheat bread with everything, except black olives." I told the "sandwich artist", who began to fix it immediately. She cut the bread and began to load it up with all sorts of toppings like peppers, onions, jalapenos, sprouts and lettuce atop the turkey when she stopped and threw me a curve ball. "Sir, would you like oil and vinegar on this?"

This was unexpected. My brain went into complete overload. I froze. Did "everything" include oil and vinegar? I mean he specifically said everything, but he qualified it with "no black olives", because he knew he didn't like olives. But, had he even thought about condiments and dressings?

On the surface this doesn't seem to be that big of a deal but if you love sandwiches, this was a make or break moment. Oil and vinegar is either the last stop on the train to perfection or the mistake that leads a perfectly constructed lunch into the nearest trash can! You see my predicament here?

I reached for my cell. It wasn't in my pocket! In my head I could see it sitting on my desk right next to my stapler and my docking station. Unbelievable. I hate making decisions like this. "You get this wrong J. Paul and your buddy goes hungry" I told myself. I took a few deep breaths and gave the "artist" a quick smile. "He said 'everything' so pour it on." I told her in a voice that sounded more creaky than confident. Then she packed it up in a bag with some napkins and off I went.

Driving back to the office I couldn't have felt more unsure of my decision. I turned the music up loud, but I found no solace in the rocking sounds of Poison blaring from my cars factory speakers. What made it even worse was the fact that I couldn't get the chill off my bones from the biting wind outside, even though inside the car it was a sweltering 90+ degrees! My whole body felt funny. My extremities felt like they were on fire but my core just couldn't warm up. Odd, I know.

"Todd" was away from his desk when I got back, so I made the drop as if I were leaving a case full of "small bills" for a ransom - constantly looking over my shoulders trying to determine if I was being watched. Once the drop was made though, I was back to my desk without so much as a sound. I left no indication that I was back, leaving my Dice-K screen saver up and slouching just right in my chair to avoid detection. Was it the fear of discovery that made my normally mundane meatball sub so good? Probably.

Luckily for me, Todd, whose name I changed to protect the innocent, (or did I, because you wouldn't know either way and anyone who did probably isn't reading this), loved the sandwich. I spent a whole lot of time worrying for nothing. But, it does illustrate my point. What does "everything" mean, and can we take it literally when we are unsure of all the variables that might come into play? I don't have an answer to that, and in the grand scheme of things I probably don't need one. The next time Todd wants a sandwich though, I am bringing him with me. Or, maybe I will just send him, because all I would want is a meatball sub with "nothing but cheese".