Just call me…BLT?

Today I walked into Jimmy John’s 10 minutes after it opened and announced I was there for the “BLT order.” The guy behind the desk chuckled until he went to get the box for me and realized it contained 12 BLTs. 

“That really is a BLT order!”

Fast forward two hours. It has been a great day and I have had more people than expected show up. I realize with dawning dread that I am going to run out of sandwiches. Jimmy John’s is right up the street from me and makes the most sense for getting more. (Did you realize Subway will only let you get 6 subs at a time? And that if you order more, it falls under catering and needs 24 hours advanced notice? Grrr) Anyway, I realized I needed to go pick up some more. For a moment, I play around with the idea of sending someone else to get the order. Then I think, why bother? It isn’t like they are going to remember me. Confidently, I stride in the front door, convinced I will get lost in the lunch rush. Only to be greeted with…

“BLT IS BACCCKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” 

I then ordered 6 more BLTs. Let’s be real, though. There are worse foods to be known for. 

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