Subway

Yes, I’m a regular here. So what?
Sure, we can debate all day the merits of places using artisanal bread, wax poetic about house-​cured capicola and applaud the usage of a myriad of other «authentic» ingredients flown in from half-​way around the world*, but honestly, at the end of the day (yeah, take a knee and contemplate), isn’t there a part of you deep within that yearns for the satisfaction that comes when you get that bang for your hard-​earned buck?
Uh huh, you know what I’m talking about. Up high. *smack transitions to fist pump*
Operating on a pseudo bi-​weekly timescale, my craving for things pressed between two buns hits me hard and fast. It whispers sweet, sweet nothings in my ear causing any and all peripheral matters to fall away, leaving me naught but a singular focus: It’s time to get myself a sammich — yea.
Pradeep is my go-​to guy here (has the Sunday shift) and he never gyps on the fillings. My main staples:
+ 12 inch Spicy Italian on Honey Oat with Provolone cheese, toasted, loaded with all veggies (extra jalapeños and/​or banana peppers), finishing with a splash of oil.
+ 12 inch Light tuna (less mayo) on Honey Oat (same amt of fiber as the wheat, but tastes better — get it) with Pepper Jack cheese, toasted, all veggies again and definitely extra hot peppers too… and a drizzle of oil here as well — why not?
This branch has always been well-​kempt whenever I’ve visited, and with the ever present aroma of freshly-​baked bread in the air, how can you resist?
Come. Get that 12 (whoppin’) inch sub for $ 7.xx and rest easy knowing you’ve got the meals for the rest of the day covered.
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* While making a point to appeal to our inner plebeian, it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t lunge at a glorious bourgeois sandwich, if presented with a choice.