It's What's Between

This post was going to be about the $5 footlong song, and how it's the best jingle to come along in years. That's still true. How many jingles get stuck in your head like this? Not since "maybe it's Maybelline." This shit's diabolically catchy. People sing it on the streets. This doesn't happen with other commercials . What is it about this one? I think it's the Flaming Lips-style harmonies. The easy-to-remember dance moves help, too. But no, now this post is about how the $5 footlong is merely a pipe dream to trick innocents into emptying their wallet on some crazy-expensive non-$5 footlong. Yes, this happened to me today. At least in my head, I saw a commercial where Subway announced all of their footlongs were now $5. Apparently, this never actually took place. I ordered a footlong, reasoning it was worth the extra 60 cents to upgrade from the $4.40 6-inch. The sandwich artist unsuccessfully tried to upsell me on double meat, which I found a mit

Part One of a four part series of Subway-inspired short stories of 500 or fewer words. Turkey Doesn't Live Here Anymore There was a loud knock on the door, but when Salami Sam opened it, he only saw the empty woods. The turkey ghosts were at it again. “Turkey doesn’t live here anymore!” Sam desperately yelled into the night. “Enough! Why won’t you leave me alone?” Sam heard murmured gobbles, haunting the air. He thought he saw a flash of red turkey neck in his peripheral, but it was hard to know what was real any more. Sam thought back to the first time he saw the house. He wept with his head in his hands as the gobbling intensified. “The House of Turkey, huh?” Salami Sam asked the realtor, laughing. Having made his fortune in the deli trade, Sam was ready for a quieter life of perfecting recipes and curing Italian meats. The isolated cabin in the Black Hills of South Dakota seemed the ideal spot to settle down. “Yessir, this used to be the most popular turkey shop in the Dakotas,

Amid tales of murder and sandwich crime in their stores, Subway has launched a feel-good contest for U.S. grade schoolers. In the Every Sandwich Tells a Story Contest , Subway urges our nation's children to write a short story "that is as delicious to read as a Subway sandwich is to eat." Appropriately, the story must include not only a beginning, but a middle and end, too. Due to the United States' inconvenient child labor laws, It's What's between doesn't have any K-6 staffers. Nonetheless, we are entering this contest. The winner gets $5,500 worth of prizes! For writing about sandwiches! So keep watching for our Subway Kids entries on the following themes: The Mysterious Meatball, Turkey Doesn't Live Here Anymore, The Race to Red Onion Ranch, and Crunch, Crunch! Let's go kids, it's time to get writing!

Exhibiting a heroically low standard for what constitutes an emergency, last week, a man named Reginald Peterson called 911 to complain about a poorly prepared Subway sandwich. According to Reginald, he paid almost $12 for two sandwiches, which upon his inspection weren't what he'd asked for. Conflicting reports say his Spicy Italian might have been missing mustard and mayo, or perhaps some kind of sauce. Either way, the sandies weren't right, and Reginald went back to the counter to get them fixed. Here's where the mainstream media claims Reginald freaked out, forcing the employees to lock him out of the store for fear of their safety. Reginald says he just explained that he wanted his sauce or whatever, and that the sandwich artist refused, stole his sandwich and locked him outside. There may be some truth to both sides' stories, but so far, I'm with Reginald. Once outside, Reginald called 911 to complain that his sandwiches weren't only made wrong, but,

Before there was the sandwich blog, there was The Carolina — Denver's top sandwich. Once upon a time, there was a man named Jabo , who fed the DTC masses from his barbecue cart. So delicious were his smoked meats that the crowds soon overwhelmed Jabo, and forced him into a strip mall on Arapahoe Road, by the motorcycle dealership. Jabo remains there today, serving up his varie d meats along with such delicacies as honey-buttered scones (donuts), sweet potato fries and an unmatched variety of exotic sauces. While I quickly acknowledged Jabo's place in the Denver BBQ scene, it took me a while to realize The Carolina's importance. I'd always considered coleslaw to be a side di sh — never a topping. Jabo introduced me to slaw's potential and I've never looked back. Coupled with one of Jabo's signature sauces, such as the ever reliable hot mango, or hot mustard, The Carolina is unstoppable . It is THE five-sandy champion to which all sandies, Denver-based or

Lettuce is without a doubt the most pointless vegetable on God's Green Earth, and yet it's omnipresent on sandwiches. Why? Who put the sandwich artists up to this? Does anyone actually like lettuce? No, it's there as a filler, and everyone knows it. I'm not anti-lettuce in every context. In salad, it's perfectly fine, some might argue essential, even. A crisp, curled leaf of Iceberg is welcome on a cheeseburger — it serves as a refreshing contrast to the hot drippiness of the thing. But a pile of shredded lettuce thrown onto my egg salad hero? No, it's unwelcome, as it is on any cold deli sandwich. Regardless, lettuce is assumed to be part of any default sandy, along with tomatoes and mayo. When I order my standard "whatever sandwich with tomatoes and mustard," half the delicatessens question me. "You want lettuce?" they ask. No. A thousand times no. They never ask why not, and sometimes they add it anyway, as a certain Greenpoint sandwich