I order a veggie delight sandwich with double American cheese. The American cheese comes in triangles. Triangles. Do you see where this is going? I ask you, if you are trying to cover the bread, why would you arrange the cheese in a mountain formation instead of inverting every other triangle to make rectangles? Am I the only one that thinks this should be basic common sense? When you combine that with the fact that I like double cheese, half my sandwich is quadruple cheesy where the cheese overlaps, whereas the other half has no cheese at all. My kids won’t let me say anything; I already embarrass them enough.
On top of the double cheese, I ask for a little bit of spinach, tomatoes that are ripe and don’t have a big hole in the middle (indicative of the removal of a hard, white, tasteless core), and one piece of onion to cover the entire length of the sandwich. (I don’t want to have onion breath the rest of the day.) And to finish it off, just a light sprinkle of salt and pepper. They already think I am crazy, and I am sure they would have spit on it if they didn’t make it right in front of me. I know they want to roll their eyes when they see me coming, and I have seen them race to the back so they don’t have to deal with me. Could it really be a coincidence that all the supplies are empty and need refilling just as I walk in. Why not just ask them to turn the triangle over, you ask? Apparently vocalizing that request is just too much for my children to bare.
For now, at least I have all the ingredients, albeit disorganized. I guess I will have to be content with reconstructing my sandwich the way Euclid, the father of geometry, would have intended. Not only do I get cheese in every bite, but I can be relaxed while eating it.