Jerks of the Week - Nov. 22, 2010

Jerks of the Week for Nov. 22, 2010


JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 1: Sucky Subway

At 7:45 on Thursday evening, I went out to buy dinner. The Dolphins-Bears game was coming on at 8:30, so I needed some fattening food to give me enough energy to make it through what would be one of the most frustrating football games I'd ever see.

I moved into this neighborhood about three months ago, so I figured it was time for me to try some of the fancy restaurants around this area. First stop: Subway!

I love Subway - and not because some nerd lost 500 pounds eating their food. Seriously, what a horrible ad campaign. I'd be more impressed if someone gained 500 pounds. That way, you'd know that their food is delicious.

My favorite meal at Subway is the chicken parm melt with potato chips and cookies NOM NOM NOM NOM. The Indian chicks who worked at the Subway in my old neighborhood made it to perfection. I almost considered marrying them just for that talent.

I made the 3-minute drive to my new Subway. As I opened the door, I spotted a hot brunette sitting on the window sill and reading a magazine. "Awesome food and hot chicks? This must be heaven," I thought.

Unfortunately, I would be proven wrong in a matter of minutes. The kid working behind the counter was this ultra-skinny Indian guy. He was so thin that he looked like one of the children in those Christian Children's Fund commercials. You know, the one where the white-haired guy goes, "For $1 a day you can feed poor little Chiquita here. Here's the phone number. Make the call. And while you do, I will molest Chiquita. I'll make her taste my banana... I mean, whoops, didn't realize the camera was still rolling!"

At any rate, I approached the counter and asked for a chicken parm melt.

Hungry Indian: GEijgri eorner o h348gheor dfhf w

Me: What!?

This kid mumbled and spoke so softly, I had to reach over the counter to hear him.

Hungry Indian: No have chicken.

Me: Oh man. Fine, I'll take a meatball marinara then.

Not a bad consolation prize, I guess. Though, Wawa makes better meatball sandwiches. Sorry, Subway.

Hungry Indian: rg9rgu e0whe r dfl berh ger

Me: What!?

Hungry Indian: No have meatball. All burn.

How dare you burn meatballs? What kind of monster are you!?

Me (half-joking): Do you have anything?

Hungry Indian: wrpg qwf ig 98eri fouibh benjarvus green-ellis erghreoh 0g o gb

Me: What!?

Hungry Indian: We out of bread too. All bread gone.

What the hell? No chicken. No meatballs. No bread. All this Subway had was a hot chick sitting on a window sill - which normally would have been OK, but I was hungry as balls.

I told Hungry Indian I'd go somewhere else.

I miss my old Subway. Sure, because it's in Philly, it's held up at gunpoint once a week. But at least they actually have food.

JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 2: Pill Lady

I drove to Wawa and bought a meatball sandwich there. I also purchased a tub of Chicken Corn Chowder soup.

*** If you've never had Chicken Corn Chowder soup before, I strongly recommend it. If I had enough Chicken Corn Chowder soup, I'd fill my hot tub with it and bathe in it. ***

As my meatball hoagie was being prepared, the hot chick making the sandwich yelled, "Hey do we have any meatballs!?" I found this strange because she was scooping meatballs into my hoagie, and it looked like there were many more meatballs remaining in the tub. But whatever - this chick is allowed to say stupid stuff because she's hot.

The jerk in this story was the woman ahead of me in line that I will refer to as Pill Lady (you'll see why later). Pill Lady was in her late 30s. She was wearing a pink hat and ridiculous amount of makeup, and was obscenely skinny. If I had to guess, her occupation was A) prostitute; B) crack addict; C) Skeletor's wife in the next He-Man movie.

Before I even stood in line, I heard Pill Lady yell, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!!!" She then ran out of line and toward the refrigerator, where she couldn't decide on a drink. I observed her take a drink out of the fridge, scan it, place it back, take out another drink, scan that one, put that one back, etc. She did this for several minutes.

Pill Lady ran back toward the register and barely beat me there. Once again, she said "I'm sorry" about five times in a row.

The fat woman behind the counter scanned her drink - she finally chose a bottle of chocolate milk - and told Pill Lady that she owed $16.35. Pill Lady opened her bag - it was made out of jeans material - and after a minute of scanning through it...

Pill Lady: I can't find my money! Ha! I can't find it!

Fat Lady: Are you sure you brought money with you?

Pill Lady: Yes! Yes! Yes! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! There are just so many compartments in this bag! There are 10 different compartments! I don't know where anything is!

Fat Lady: Well, I'm sure it's in there somewhere.

Pill Lady (looks at me): I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm taking too long! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

Me: It's OK, they didn't make my sandwich yet.

Pill Lady: I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Oh, I think I found it! I found it!

Pill Lady located what appeared to be some sort of zippered wallet. She quickly opened it, and all of these pills came flying out.

I don't even know what they were. They were round white pills with blue arrows on them. There were about 20 of them scattered all over the register. The fat lady, looking rather annoyed, seemed frustrated that she couldn't eat them. Pill Lady, meanwhile, stared down at them and seemed like she was about to cry.

Pill Lady: I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

Fat Lady: Do you just want me to suspend your bill so I can ring him up?

Pill Lady: I'm sorry! Yes! I'm sorry! Yes! I'm sorry! Yes! I'm sorry! Yes! I'm sorry! Yes! I'm sorry!

Fat Lady charged me $9.97 for my meatball hoagie and Chicken Corn Chowder soup. As I left Wawa, I looked back at Pill Lady, who still didn't seem like she knew what was going on.

If there are reports that a skinny woman in her late 30s died of an overdose in a Philadelphia alleyway, don't be too surprised.

JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 3: Change Nazi

Pill Lady's actually pretty fortunate that Fat Lady was behind the counter, and not someone I like to call Change Nazi.

Change Nazi is this older woman who sometimes works the register at Wawa. She's super strict with change and does her job incredibly fast. Here's how she operates:

1. Scans the items like a normal cashier.

2. Says: "That will be X dollars and Y cents, sir." It's always "sir." It doesn't matter if the customer is a kid or a woman. She always says "sir" because she never looks at the other person.

3. Say the bill comes to $15.75 or something. The other person will give her a $20 bill, and she'll say, "Out of 20 dollars and zero cents." Who does that? You don't need the "zero cents" part, Change Nazi.

4. She takes the change out of the register and says, "And your change comes to four dollars and 25 cents, have a good day, sir."

Change Nazi is so quick and efficient, yet doesn't appear to be able to tell the difference between a man and a woman, so if I were to guess, she's a robot from the future designed to be the perfect cashier. I'll know for sure when I give her $10 on a bill for $12.50, and she starts shooting lasers out of her eyes.

Change Nazi does have one flaw, however. She's actually too fast, much like Soup Nazi from Seinfeld.

I was standing in line one Sunday morning. There was a trashy-looking dude at the register ahead of me (tattoos, eyebrow piercings). The following exchange ensued between he and Change Nazi:

Change Nazi: That will be 13 dollars and 10 cents, sir.

*** Trashy Dude handed her a $20 bill. ***

Change Nazi: Out of 20 dollars and zero cents.

*** Change Nazi opened the register. ***

Trashy Dude: Wait, I think I have a dime.

Change Nazi: No, it is already too late sir.

Trashy Dude: Too late?

Change Nazi: Six dollars and 90 cents is your change, sir. Have a nice day.

Trashy Dude: But...

Change Nazi: Your transaction is complete. Next in line?

Poor Trashy Dude just wanted to give her a dime so he could have $4 in his pocket instead of $3.90. Unfortunately, he was "too late," whatever the hell that means.

Trashy Dude walked away and I heard him mutter, "f***ing b***h."

Now, can you imagine if Change Nazi and Pill Lady encountered each other?

Change Nazi: That will be 16 dollars and 35 cents, sir.

Pill Lady: I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

Change Nazi: That will be 16 dollars and 35 cents, sir.

*** Pill Lady opens bag; pills fly out. ***

Pill Lady: I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

Change Nazi: Out of 20 pills and zero cents.

Pill Lady: I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

Change Nazi: Twenty pills... 20 pills... 20 pills... Cannot compute change... cannot compute change, sir...

Pill Lady: I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

Change Nazi: Internal error! Internal error, sir! Cannot compute change! Must charge eye lasers and eliminate all customers!

Well, now that I think about it, I guess it wouldn't really matter for Pill Lady. She's bound to die in an alley anyway, so what's the difference if she's fried by Change Nazi's lasers?