Dancing Sandwich

I remembered what my blog from yesterday was going to be. I saw the subject of it on the way home again tonight.

It might not be as funny as I said it was going to be. I don't really know. I'm not very funny this week.

I'm not even sure who or where I am this week. Brain is on overload.

So there's apparently a new Subway on my way home. And the reason I know this is because they've got a dancing sandwich out on the corner, dancing and waving at cars that drive by. NOT because I saw a sign or could even find the Subway.

I had to look for it after I was distracted from my driving by the obnoxious dancing sandwich.

Now, I don't like Subway (does anyone else notice that ALL Subways smell weird . . . in the exact same way? That's not good, right?). But I LOVE sandwiches (not as much as pizza, but sandwiches are up there on my list of food favorites). Consequently, Subway is not on my list of places that I tend to consider when I want a sandwich.

But if I wanted a sandwich today on my way home, is a dancing sandwich really the way to draw me in? To me it's just a psychotic sandwich jumping around on the sidewalk.

It doesn't make me hungry.
It's doesn't invite me in (I might get attacked by the crazy sandwich).
It doesn't put Subway any higher on my list as a reputable sandwich-making facility.

Taking the foods I like and making them dance for me does not make me want that food at all. In fact, I kinda like sandwiches a little less now that I've seen one dancing two days in a row.

And I kinda hate Subway a little more now that when I think of it, I just see the dancing sandwich and I am reminded that the dancing sandwich makes me like sandwiches less, which makes me sad because I really love sandwiches.

Damn you, Dancing Sandwich. You make me sad.

C.T.