There's a headline I never thought I'd write. Yet, the fact remains that it's actually true, due to the fact that today I got Sandwich Rage.
Not rage at the actual sandwich. I might be a bit hormonal at the moment, but I've not yet reached the point where I'm yelling at inanimate wheat-based items (stay tuned to see what happens over the next eight months though). I got rage at the Sandwich Maker, or more accurately, the Sandwich Maker Who Dares Pass Judgement.
Just what is so odd about ciabatta with parma ham and fresh tomato anyway? LOTS, apparently. Enough is wrong with it to make the Sandwich Maker give me a raised-eyebrow stare for ten seconds and then shout across the sandwich bar: "You eat strange foods, yes?!"
And then I shouted back about piss poor customer service and my rights to have whatever sandwich I damn well wanted, yes?!
Then I turned on my heel and slipped on a wet leaf. Tomorrow I am buying my lunch from M & S.
In other news: shut up, Orange gigs and tours advert.