It’s been one of those days..
It started off with lunch..
I have a hectic schedule and operate at a rushed pace with everything having to happen at a quick, methodical and efficient rate. My only real break in the day is when I run off to get my lunch and [on] this day I wanted a sandwich.
The deli is normally an efficient single queue (very English) with about 4-5 sandwich-istas preparing your meal. You can normally tell the new hire from the veteran, [and/or other sentence connector] serving lunch to a bunch of problematic on-the-go people makes you a [sarnie] veteran very quickly (ohh polish boy with the fluttering ears I remember when you were bumbling about trying to layer the lettuce over the Branston pickle – look at you now, commanding the line and making casual conversation with your coworkers while making my lunch – bravo good sir! Bravo..)
While waiting in line, I spot one of the new guys move over to the side room running his hand under the sink, aka, he cut himself while making a sandwich. I anxiously watch him put anti-bacterial [gel?] on, then slip on another set of gloves and get back in line. By a crude calculation in my head measuring the time it takes to prepare a sandwich, the quick glances of the how fat the assembly line was at with the readiness of the sandwiches and how many people I had in front of me – I [realised] was going to get served by newbie von finger slice..
“you know what bro, I’ll just wait for the next person”
“but they’re all busy, I’m next, what would you like”
“no really, it’s good, I don’t mind waiting”
“you’re holding up the line, you don’t want me to make your sandwich?”
“it’s not that I don’t want you to make my sandwich, but I saw you washing your hand after what appeared to be a cut.. and if it’s all the same with you, I don’t want you bleeding over my lunch”
He raises his hand, “there’s no blood see? And I’m wearing a plastic glove”
“There’s a bunch of things I can’t see and that’s fine, I can’t see them, but I know that you cut your hand and I know that you don’t have a plaster on, and I don’t want you making my sandwich.. all I’m saying is if I’m going to be paying for my lunch, I’d at least want it to be hygienic – no offence”
Person behind me chimes in “yeah I’ll wait too..”
I got a dirty look today – I’m worried he’s gonna pick his nose and use that as a spread next time I order my sandwich from him.