How is YOUR eyesight? Do you see with perfect 20/20 clarity? Is that corrected or uncorrected? Do you wear contacts or glasses?
Me? I wear contacts, sometimes glasses. But if you’ve read this then you already know that. Without glasses my vision is something like 20/bringthatahellofalotcloserifyouexpectmetoseeit. With contacts, I’ve got 20/20 vision.
That’s what my eye doctor’s records say anyway. The truth… the truth is something they can’t record on paper because well, that would give me away and then when the government needs my extraordinary skills I’d be called up and put to work when all I really want is to be left alone to live my life in peace and sandwiches. Subs, to be exact.
Because you see (no pun intended) I have Superhero X-ray eyes! No, I can’t see through walls (unless they’re made of glass). I can’t see through clothes (but if I could I’d hang around a bunch of good looking muscled firemen). And I can’t see through skin (and who would want to look at skeletons all day anyway? Well, okay, maybe a radiologist). However, I CAN see through paper. A very special kind of paper, the kind that Subway uses to wrap their subs in!
“Bah!” You say. “Who cares?” You ask.
Well, it’s a VERY important and most useful ability. In fact, I didn’t even know I had this ability until a few weeks ago. But I’m honing it now, oh yes I am!
You see (there I go again, and really I don’t mean to rub it in), I went to Subway recently to get a sub for lunch. This particular Subway draws a fairly large lunch crowd. Often, the line snakes out the door and onto the sidewalk beyond. Once inside, while still in line mind you, you shout your order to the sandwich maker guy (you know he’s the one because he’s got the letters S and M on the front of his shirt) and he gets the basics of bread and meat together. Then you move up a bit and shout out the toppings you want, be it vegetables or condiments, and a lady with a hair net does your bidding. Then the sandwiches are wrapped in the special sandwich wrap and shoved on down the counter near the register.
This is where it gets hairy and my Superhero X-ray vision must be activated. The cash register lady doesn’t even look up at you. Seriously, I could be Jared standing in front of her and she wouldn’t even notice. She wouldn’t say “Jared! What a treat to have you here at my Subway franchise. I see you’ve kept the weight off! Do you want a Veggie sub?” Oh, no she would not because, as I said, she doesn’t look at you. Instead she points to a wrapped sub and asks in a bored monotone “What sandwich is this?” Seriously, that’s her job. She stands there and repeats “What sandwich is this? What sandwich is this? What sandwich is this?” Until the last lunch buying person hands over their money and the crowd is gone.
The first time she asked me this I was just about to say “How the hell should I know? Do you think I can see through the wrapper? I don’t know what THAT sandwich is but I ordered an Italian Club…” Only I didn’t actually say that. I simply responded, “Italian Club” and it turned out I was right! And that’s how I realized I had this fantabulous gift! It’s funny in a way because I don’t even realize I’m doing it. I don’t have a sudden vision or anything. It’s not like I see the bread layered with meat and cheese and lettuce and tomatoes and mayonnaise and hots (that’s how I like my subs by the way, just in case you ever wanted to buy me lunch). It’s more like a simple knowledge. But really, how else could I have that knowledge unless I was actually looking through the wrapper? And the cash register lady knows this! She expects me to be able to see through the wrapper and give her an answer. And so, when it’s my turn and I am asked “What sandwich is this?” that is exactly what I do. I summon up my Superhero X-ray vision, look through the wrapper, and tell her what sandwich it is so she can enter the price accordingly.
Also, I am not the only one with this incredible ability. Most of the people who come to this particular Subway have the same skill! I think we all go there because it’s “just” a sandwich shop. Villains wouldn’t expect to find us there, would they? They probably assume (and you know what happens when you assume, right?) that because we are Superheroes that we’d be eating somewhere fancy. Somewhere with sparkling silver, and clinking crystal, and linen napkins. We should. With powers like these we deserve to. But we don’t. We just grab a sandwich and pretend we’re normal folk.
Really though, at this particular Subway it’s like a lunchtime Superhero convention; it is! Except when it’s not. Because sometimes NORMAL people come in and get a sandwich. I know they are mere mortals with eyes that can’t see beyond what’s in front of them because they pay for their sandwich and leave only to return 5 minutes later complaining: “This is the WRONG sandwich!” because they ordered the Subway Tuna Club but got a Subway Roast Beef Club instead. And that’s their own fault. If they could see through the paper like I can, then that wouldn’t have happened. Honestly, I don’t know why when asked “What sandwich is this?” they don’t just admit “Uh, I don’t know. I can’t see through the wrapper.” I guess they want to appear cool like the rest of us there, but the jig is totally up when they come back for an exchange. I mean, how embarrassing is that? “Duh, I got the wrong sandwich. Duh…” They could have saved themselves both time and trouble though if they’d just told the truth. Obviously, I would have offered my services. All they’d have to do is tell the truth, ask for my help, and buy me lunch.
Running With Books 