The lesson of last week is never, ever, stand between a hungry and irritable pregnant lady and her sandwich. Particularly if what's standing between her and her sandwich involves an accusation of petty theft. Hanger and hormones have proven quite the volatile combination.
The short story is that a sandwich artist accused a certain hungry and irritable pregnant lady of stealing an iced tea. She had opened the drink cooler, handled an iced tea, changed her mind, put it back, closed the door, changed her mind again, and selected a different iced tea. When she went to pay, said sandwich artist insisted that she had taken two iced teas and put one of them in her pocket. (How deep were these pockets?)
Her husband's reaction was to start laughing and ask "Are you fucking kidding me?" Her reaction also involved "are you fucking kidding me" but with considerably more rage – she hurled her purse at him, challenged him to search it, and stormed out of the Subway after he declined.
Given that a double baby bump apparently bears a startling resemblance to the outline of a 591 mL beverage bottle, I propose that Chris and Sara mastermind a criminal enterprise focussed entirely on the theft of one single iced tea with sandwich purchase. I envision an underworld army of women using pregnancy as a clever disguise to steal liquid refreshment all over town.
Sara requested that I drink Long Island Iced Tea last weekend to commemorate – and I have to admit that I failed, because while I drank plenty on Friday, no tea-inspired alcohol passed through my lips, and circumstances precluded my planned drinking for Saturday. I’ll have to work a way to make it up into my schedule.
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