Her guide to having the perfect first-date mojo...

This afternoon, while out running errands for the museum, my coworker, Nora, and I decided to stop for a quick lunch at Subway.

There were two Subway employees behind the counter. Both women.

The younger of the two was around 20 and looked like the recent victim of a vampire attack. Her face was a bloodless white color that stood out in sharp contrast to her greasy, black hair. Nothing about her screamed healthy – a point further emphasized as she turned her head and hacked snot into the crook of her elbow.

The man whose sandwich she was working on looked at us nervously, and stepped back from the counter.

The second employee was older – probably in her mid to late 40s – but was missing a significant number of teeth. This gave the unfortunate impression that she was in her late 70s or early 80s.

Nora and I watched as the older woman took the order of the male customer directly in front of us, and then paused and look up at us in confusion. Apparently, she had already forgotten what he had said.

You could see her mind working for a couple of seconds before his order came back to her and she reached for the pre-portioned chicken. As she did, she looked back at us and exclaimed, “Not my fault! I’m sick!”

Except, since she didn’t have any teeth, the last part came out in a juicy, saliva-filled, “I’m fthick!”

Nora: “[Without missing a beat] Well, then, you are obviously the person we want preparing our food.”

This comment went unnoticed by the older toothless employee, but vampire girl definitely heard it. If looks could kill, her scowl would have definitely done the trick.

Not willing to risk our health by eating anything prepared by the toothless Typhoid Mary or her hacking vampire sidekick, Nora and I turned and left.

I am not a big fast food fan in the first place, but this pretty much guarantees that I won’t be stepping foot back in a Subway any time soon.