Thursday, Oct. 24, 2002 - 9:31 a.m.

7:10 am. Woke up this morning, scratched and turned on the TV to find two major breaking news stories. The Beltway Sniper has been apprehended and Christina Aguilera has eleven piercings.

9:14 a.m. The Boss and I were mutually shocked at seeing each other in the office before noon. He immediately asked me how the meeting went last evening.

9:14:10 a.m. Like any team-playing ass-kissing back-watching backstabbing employee I responded with a resounding, "Great! More productive than I had anticipated." He continued, "So you thought it went well?" "Absolutely," I replied.

9:16 a.m. He continued with, "They�re all important. You know what I mean?" Then repeated "You know what I mean?" several more times each more quiet than the last.

9:17 a.m. As I made my way to my office I racked my brain as to what meeting he was referring to.

1:05 p.m. Knoxville and I ventured over to the nearby Ralph�s in hopes of getting a quick sandwich.

1:25 p.m. All hopes of a quick sandwich have been shattered. The counter help seems stuck in the slow dimwitted position. "Chew want everching on dat?" the deli man asked as he turtled his way from the meat slicer to the bread table. "Just mustard and lettuce" I replied.

1:28 p.m. I became more and more horrified as I watched the deli man finger through a loaf of bread for just the right two pieces before finally settling in on what looked like the two most mismatched sized he could find only to then proceed in covering them with mayonnaise. "Chew want tomatoes on dat." My loud and well enunciated, "No, just mustard and lettuce" fell on deaf ears as he continued to load up what was to be my low-fat oven baked turkey sandwich on sourdough with mustard, tomato, green bell pepper, black olives, pickles, lettuce, salt, pepper, sprouts. He then asked, "Chew want jalapenos?" I asked, "Can you come over here a second." The man slowing shuffled over to the counter with the attitude of a doctor being called to the phone, away from a delicate yet complicated brain surgery, only to find out all his wife wants is for him to bring home a quart of milk and a box of tampons. I continued, "I don�t want jalapenos, I don�t want sprouts, I don�t want olives or pickles or green bell pepper and I don�t want tomatoes and I really don�t want one piece of bread the size of catcher�s mitt and the other one the size of a babies fist. Do you want to know what I do want?" He answered, "Chew want another sandwich?" I told him, "No, I don�t want another sandwich." And then as I stared at the deli man I didn�t know what I wanted anymore or whether I was just to polite to tell him or whether I was too embarrassed to have a meltdown in front of Knoxville. Either way I was defeated. Hungry and defeated. Not my best combo.

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