Failing The Subway Challenge

Today I lost the Subway Challenge. And it wasn’t your run-of-the-mill loss, either, it was a spectacular loss.

To me, the Subway Challenge is being able to get through the line in a reasonable amount of time. That’s why you always have to gauge the length of the line before you commit, or you could get trapped in it for what seems like hours, shuffling along slowly while somebody in front of you is making what is apparently a life-or-death decision on their vegetables of choice, based solely on the absurd amount of time it is taking.

I decided to stop at Subway today after basketball was finished for the simple reason that if I open my fridge or cupboards I see nothing more than the occasional tumbleweed or two rolling by. However, this meant that I would have to stand in line while I was sweaty and smelly. Still, I figured it would be worth it, because I didn’t want to go home, shower, and then come back.

This was, of course, contingent on the length of the line. Luckily for me, or so I thought, there turned out to be only one customer being helped, so I committed, figuring it would be an easy win and I’d be out in a jiffy, with hopefully nobody the wiser about my current cleanliness issues.

Unfortunately, I did not notice that the lady in front of me had a list. (I hate when they have lists! Call ahead people!) Of course, she was ordering four subs and had just barely begun. (Luckily, she seemed to be able to read her own writing. Sometimes the Multiple Sub Orderer will have to waste even more time trying to decipher their own chicken scratch.) I debated leaving right then and there, but I decided to tough it out, since I was already in line. Plus, nobody seemed to notice that I was currently stinking rather righteously.

About thirty seconds later the door opened and about eight-hundred people entered. Now I was trapped with a large amount of people who probably weren’t very fond of B.O. But, I was committed to staying there, because I can be incredibly stubborn. That meant that everybody behind me would soon wonder what the foul odor was, and I was sure they would eventually figure it out. I made a mental note not to raise my arms.

Needless to say, I failed the challenge. It took much too long to get through the line. Plus, I am probably now known to everybody there as the Stinky Guy.

But I guess, as the saying goes, you win some and you lose some.

But still, if you’re going to lose, you should bring along deodorant. It never hurts.