The Unremarkable Sandwich

Efil lived an unremarkable life. Born to an unremarkable family in an unremarkable town, she went to an unremarkable public school and eventually graduated with a business degree she used to get a job at an unremarkable office, where she stays from nine in the morning to five in the afternoon and she had done this for the 20 years she had been out of school. On Weekdays she takes the train home and watches reruns of  the Bachelor with her cat, Kensington. On Saturdays she goes for a long walk around her neighbourhood and on Sunday she buys a sandwich from Luke’s Bar and Eatery. 

It was another regular Sunday, and Efil had gotten caught in the rain, making her beige cardigan stick to her skin and the worn jeans she wore leaden on her legs. Like every Sunday before, she walked up to the counter and ordered the usual: A chicken sandwich with tomato and lettuce on toasted rye bread. 

The food at Luke’s was never good. It was mediocre at best and downright inedible at worst. It was more for the sake of routine that she continued to go there. The new part timer took her order. A young boy with blue eyes and ragged brown hair. His name card read “Michael” With a little pink sparkling heart sticker dotting the eye. 

“Sorry, could I just clarify your order?” He looked at her for confirmation. 

Efil nodded.

“You wanted a Chicken sandwich with tomato and lettuce on toasted rye bread with a Diet pop on the side, is that right?” He smiles. 

She nodded.

Turning around he gives the order to the cook. The rain kept pouring outside, soaking the cobblestone steps in watery patterns as the sky darkened above. She stared at the rain and the golden gate bridge slightly visible between skyscrapers dappled in fog. 

She could feel herself being called despite not quite hearing it. 

“Excuse me, miss?” The boy, Michael, was calling her, a plastic bag in his hands heavy with what Efil assumed was her order. 

“Sorry. Thank you.” She took the bag in delicate hands as she went to her usual corner seat. Without an umbrella she couldn’t exactly walk anywhere. 

Opening the bag Efil was greeted with probably the worst sandwich from Luke’s to date. The rye bread was burnt yet soggy in the middle. The tomato was a dulling red-ish colour and the lettuce looked like it was wilting. The chicken seemed dry but otherwise fine and like always the sauce dripped around it in a mess of fattening viscous liquid. 

“Great.” she muttered to herself. As she gingerly wrapped the already soaking paper around her ruined dinner, Michael walked by, letting the other remaining customers know that the diner was closing. It was already 10pm, guess she had gotten held up by the rain. Efil stood up, leaving the unremarkable sandwich on the dirty wooden table. 

“Excuse me, miss, you left your sandwich.” Michael called after her. 

“Yes, sorry for leaving it, I just don’t think I can eat it after all.” Efil kept her eyes downturned, looking at the lock screen picture of her phone. 

“You didn’t even have a bite, are you sure you want to just leave it like that?” 

He was starting to be irritating, why should he care if she eats the sandwich or not? “I’m fine, thanks. The bread is soggy and burnt at the same time, Tomato looks dull and the lettuce is wilting.” She raised her head now, turning off her phone. 

“What about the chicken? And the sauce? It can’t all be that bad.” His brows furrowed and he gripped the wet mop in his hands with fervor. 

“Why would I want to eat a sandwich if I have to look so hard for the redeeming qualities?” Why did he care so much about her leaving the sandwich? It wasn’t like she was leaving him. 

“Because sure the sandwich itself may not seem all that great but what if there’s more to it than you think? Huh? What if this sandwich is only not so great today but is fine and even good every other day?” Michael’s tone shifted, the cool ‘work voice’ replaced with desperation and a slight tremble.

The other customers had left at this point, leaving only her and Michael in the crusty diner. 

“I don’t want to have to wait and wait and wait for the sandwich to get better. I want to eat a sandwich that tastes good when I buy it.” It was none of his business when she ate a sandwich and when she decided to give up on it. It’s not like he actually cares, it’s not like anyone would actually care if she just gave up on the sandwiches at luke’s. 

“So you want to give up on the entire Diner then? Is that what you’re saying? Because this one sandwich was less than great?” Michael’s phone buzzed in his apron’s pocket, illuminating the food stained material in a brief glow that mimicked a female face.

“So what if I do? I’ve been coming here every sunday for years and every time I am met with another unremarkable sandwich. Why should I stick around for another one? Why should I bother when I know it will just be another bad sandwich?” it’s always something. The chicken is too dry, the lettuce too bitter, the tomato too sour. They get the order wrong or run out of stock. Why does this kid care if she leaves the sandwich.

“So what? Shouldn’t that mean that you should stay then just for the fact that you’ve been coming for so long? If you’re such a regular then why would you leave over a couple bad sandwiches? They couldn’t have all been bad if you stayed for so long.” He shakes his head, brows furrowed and eyes focused on the window behind Efil.

“I.. I don’t know. I just did. It’s close to home and inexpensive. I like that they know me.” Why did she keep coming back? Why did she bother, knowing that she’d get the same disappointing order. 

“Then stay, come back tomorrow, give this place another shot, I promise you tomorrow you’ll have the best sandwich you’ve ever had.”  

“That’s an empty promise and you know it.” 

“But what if it’s not? Things improve, people change, just because you think you know the future doesn’t mean you do.” His phone buzzed again, this time a call. 

As he picked up his phone Efil caught a glimpse of a blonde haired girl, kissing a smiling Michael’s cheek. 

He muttered into the phone briefly, “can we talk about this later, please?” he pinched the bridge of his nose, squinting his eyes shut. “I’m almost done at work, I can meet you where-” he pulled away the phone and placed it back in his apron’s pocket.

“I’ll come back tomorrow… But I don’t believe that the sandwiches will get any better.” 

He sighed and nodded with a hollow victorious smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

Leaving Luke’s Bar and Eatery, Efil walked, the summer rain showering her as she meandered the busy streets. Shadows of people blurring past her, each living their own lives. Efil pondered, contemplating her own unremarkable life as she felt the absent weight of the sandwich she left at the diner. She pictured Michael the part timer mopping the floors and throwing away the sandwich she didn't want to eat. 

Eventually Efil found herself standing at the Golden gate bridge, staring out into the rough hewn waves of the river below her. The cardigan she wore was soaked again, walking for an hour in the rain would do that to a sweater. She leaned on the railing, putting all of her wait on her arms pushing herself up, feeling the ground leave her shoes as she leaned over the edge watching the world tilt around her.

Then suddenly she was back on the ground, her feet firmly pressing into the concrete of the bridge. She hadn’t fed Kensington yet and she needed to get home before he clawed up her couch. 

The next day, for an unknown reason, Efil returned to the diner. Monday’s were different to Sundays. Efil noticed more people in for their lunch break. The tired face of Michael greeted her at the cash register. A knowing smile on his lips he simply held his hand up when she went to pay. 

“Enjoy your meal” he handed her a sandwich wrapped in paper. It was warm when she opened it at a window seat looking out onto the street.

The bread was Rye, as she always ordered, toasted to a lovely golden brown. Crumbs fell lightly onto the table and the smell of herbed chicken and a junky sauce one could tell would taste amazing wafted over her. The lettuce was a bright green and the tomato ripe. 

Biting into the sandwich the flavours of it filled her senses, the delicate crackle of the bread adding texture and the crisp vegetables crunching. The chicken was hot, well cooked but not dry. All in all it was the best sandwich she had gotten, at least from Luke’s. 

Michael smiled, puffy red eyes and all. He walked to her table, “How’s the sandwich.”

Efil smiled, the lines around her eyes crinkling in a way they hadn’t for a while. “Good.” she said. “Probably the best I’ve had from here in forever.” 

“I look forward to seeing you on Sunday.” Michael walked back to the register. 

“I think I’ll try coming on Monday’s.” Efil said, not to anyone in particular, as the clouds parted and the rain lightened just for a moment as the sun shone down for the first time it had in a long, long time.