Mini and I are here in Denver for a lacrosse tournament.
Now before y’all get excited about robbing our empty house, just know that Mini and I are the only ones gone. The rest of the fam is still at home. With our great big mean dog.
Anyhoo…I drove the whole entire way. That’s a lot of driving for me. Not a fan of driving. I’m a destination gal…not a journey gal.
As such, we (meaning I) opted to go the quicker, ugly route rather than the longer, pretty route. We drove I-80 East to Cheyenne, Wyoming, then south to Denver. We made a gas/food stop in the exciting town of Wamsutter, Wyoming.
Yeah, I’d never heard of it either. But I saw it from the freeway and the gas stop had a Subway and it was time to eat, so…seemed like a good idea.
There was construction around the gas station area. I swear it took four wheel drive to get to the pumps. Filled up then went inside for a sub.
Apparently those fine Wamsutters don’t think sweeping is a good idea in general, so we stood in line while crunching dirt under our shoes.
That was pretty gross. But it got even weirder…
So, these guys here in Wamsutter are pretty slow. Not Deliverance slow, because they had all their teeth and stuff, but just slow-moving.
in the world…
Meanwhile, I just wanted to pull out a gun and shoot somebody. Finally the manager shows up, and I’m thinking, “AWESOME!! Now we’re cooking with gas…”
Nope. Still cooking with fire. And flint.
So, manager guy comes out, looks at me, and says, “You behaving yourself?” I respond, “I’m trying.”
When in actuality I was thinking, “Dude. Stop with the socializing and get us our sandwiches. Pronto.”
Then manager guy stops what he’s doing (even though it was surely not much) and stares up at the ceiling.
Seconds click by. Maybe 15. Maybe 30.
Maybe a day and a half.
Guy is still staring at the ceiling. Finally, I turn around and look up at the ceiling. I see…nothing.
So I say, “What are you looking at?”
He says, “Just waiting for lightning to strike.”
You know how it is when someone tries to be funny and it’s just…NOT? This comment fell super, super flat.
So already I’m not too impressed with manager guy – and I should have guessed he was kind of “off” since he was, well, a Subway Sandwich manager.
Finally, we get our sandwiches. Geez.
After we finished eating, I look at my receipt, which seemed kind of high when I paid, but I was just ready to be done with the order process, and I realize he had charged me for a sandwich from the girl in front of us.
So I go back to the register. Fabulous.
He’s gone in the back by now, since the big old rush of four of us is over. They call him back out front, he fixes the problem and takes my receipt. I kind of need the receipt, so I ask him for a copy.
He says, “That’s not hard to do!” All cheery. And I don’t really care how hard it is. I just want the receipt and out of Wamsutter.
Punch a few numbers here, ding a few bells there, then Manager guy hands me the receipt and says, (and I’m not joking or embellishing), “See! Easy peasy as a Japanesey.”
Oh. My. GOSH!! I’ve never heard this before in my life. Ever.
I just stood there speechless. Then I said, “Um. Um. I really don’t even know what to say to that.”
Then I turned around and walked away. And left Wamsutter for good.
With a new racist phrase in my “offend everyone” verbal arsenal.