In Subway

This week, rather than venture North, as I normally do, to McDonalds, I went South to that beacon of fast food, Subway to sample the taste of change (determinists may sight subliminal political impetuous here). However, as I sat there with my footlongchickenteriyakionitalianbread I watched as two girls walked through the door, one wearing a Stanford hoodie and the other wearing a Texas basketball jersey. Somewhat perturbed I spilt my Coke. Five minutes later some idiot walked in wearing an Argentina football shirt with those decidedly homosexual baby-blue and white stripes. Well, dear reader, I half expected Coldplay to come on the radio and Christiano Ronaldo to walk in. When will my run-ins with local fast food chains stop? I am surrounded by scum.