Bye good friend

It is with great sadness that I say goodbye to a good friend.  You have been with me, supported me, nourished me for longer than I care to remember, and much longer than I aught to admit.  I remember when I saw you for the first time, sitting amongst the other sandwiches in the Safeway cooler.  Yes, they were adequate, wholesome, and for a single meal would ultimately be just as satisfying as you were.  But I knew they could not last the way you and I did.  Not for the full, wonderful four meals and 37 hours that we were together.

You were there for me in the morning of that first day, to give me the energy I needed to start the day as I exited the supermarket at 7am.  And unlike almost any other sandwich, you were there yet again at noon to quell my pangs of hunger and need.  And though you had given so much, so much more than any other sandwich in my entire life, you still had more to give.  The next day, long after most sandwiches were little more than a memory at best, or lingering indigestion or even worse, you and I would have two more filling meals together.  I felt so lucky to be starting another day with you, guilty and somewhat ashamed, but giddy and excited at the same time to have another breakfast from you.

It was at lunch on the second day, however, as I prepared to partake once more of your flesh and body, that I realized that I had grown so attached to you, and that what we had would come to an end.  I had been taking you for granted, relying upon you to feed my stomach and my soul, giving you little in return.  You had been there for so long that I really didn’t know what I would do without you.  No $5 foot long could last as long, no PB&J could possibly stay and support me like you did.  Perhaps a pizza and I could have lasted longer, but it simply would not have been the same.  What you and I had was special.

And so I shed a small tear from the corner of my eye as I removed the last bit of saran wrap, and discarded the styrofoam tray in which someone had so carefully placed you.   I chewed the last bites extra long, savoring the moment, searing the memory of you into my brain.  At first tough, slightly salty and sharp like sourdough, your flavor gave way to meats and a type of cheese I never dared to disrespect you by identifying.  Then came your single leaf of lettuce, slightly wilted, but blessed by abundant mayonaise and what I can only guess was mustard.   The hard work of chewing your thick bread only lengthened my simultaneous guilt and enjoyment.  I finished that last meal with you fully satisfied, and only very slightly nauseous.


Goodbye gargantuan safeway sandwich.  I shall miss you.

One Response to “Bye good friend”

  1. I can’t tell if this is romance, tragedy or pornography. But I know it’s wonderful.

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