Walgreens Sandwich Dare: Am I Really Doing This?
Being a man of my word, I headed over to the new Walgreens in Times Square to try one of their *ahem* sandwiches. Now, let me just say this: on the walk over there, a lot of thoughts went through my mind. “How do I get out of this?” “I don’t really have to do this, do I?” ”There are good excuses I could make” But I finally settled on this… I was going to do it. Why not? Sure, daring me to eat a sandwich at Walgreens is kind of against the spirit of my initial deal to eat anything in Midtown I was dared to eat… but that’s ok. My stomach has been through worse… it could handle a crappy, pre-packaged deli sandwich from a pharmacy. Right?
That of course was before I knew what I was up against…
Let me just quick restate this… I WAS 100% GOING TO EAT ONE OF THESE SANDWICHES WHEN I STEPPED INTO THAT WALGREENS. But what nobody told me was this… the sandwiches at Walgreens are not like the sandwiches at say a 7-11. They aren’t made at Walgreens. They aren’t even made *by* Walgreens at some centrally located Walgreens owned kitchen (which I’m assuming is how it works at 7-11.) They’re made by a company called “Beantown”, and then vacuum packed in plastic, and placed in paper bags before being sold. Let me say this again… vacuum… packed… in… plastic. These aren’t just pre-packaged crappy deli sandwiches. These are cry-o-vac’d monstrosities that may or may not have been made weeks ago, before being sealed and maybe or maybe not shipped all the way from a place like Boston (that’s the only ‘Beantown’ I know.)
Fuck that. If you see something weird or gross, and think “gee, I wonder if that’s good. It may be disgusting, but it may be decent…” that’s the kind of thing you can dare me eat. $3 tripe from a cart. Why not. Banana sushi? Bring it on. (Hell, I even ate at Tad’s!) Seeing something you know is going to be gross, that you or I would never eat in a million years- well, daring me to eat that is just torture. And I will not submit myself to torture. Cop out? Maybe. But the grossness I consume on a daily basis, is reason enough for me to be mildly ashamed in front of my friends and family. I’m not adding Walgreens to that list.
In other words, the line must be drawn somewhere… and I’m drawing it here. After all, if I submit myself to be dared to eat anything, then what’s next? “Hey Zach, I took a dump in a bag, sealed it in plastic, and left it on the corner of 51st Street and 6th Ave. I dare you to eat it.” Actually, you know what… that might be more appetizing than these sandwiches. Do I like to eat poop? No. But if you held a gun to my head, and gave me a choice between the two, I’m just saying I wouldn’t automatically go for the Walgreens sandwich.
The $1 mini-bags of chocolate covered pretzels and butter toffee peanuts I spotted on my way out… now those are a different story. (I couldn’t end the post with me saying I would eat a bag of poop, right?)