My recent trip to Blimpie resulted in not-so-great results. I mean, the sandwich was good, and normally that’s all that matters. But their lack of bread, knowledge and service left me wondering whether the place was maintained (read: clean). But before I wrote them off (and because I used to love the place), I figured I’d give them another shot.
My experience, after the jump…
Well, I certainly LOOK delicious.
This time I noticed the bread immediately. I had no idea what “panini bread” even looks like. And even though last time I decided choosing a sandwich off of their board was meaningless the way she says, “What can I get you?” makes me think I need to PICK a sandwich. Yes, I’m stuck in the box. And it’s boring here.
Anyway, I picked the Tuscan, which is turkey, pepperoni and provolone. Here’s the trick: based on the sandwich you choose, they put the MEAT on the sandwich. But you still choose your own bread, cheese and toppings. Still weird. But I’m getting on board.
When offered pepperjack cheese, I’ll always take it. And I chose panini bread because I want to see what it’s like. Then added lettuce, tomatoes, onions and black olives. Black olives and pepperonis go together like me and cheese dip. Then I figured, “What the hell” and had her put creamy Italian dressing on it.
And then warm it. Because that’s what paninis do, right? Get warm? Well, OK, back up. She warmed the bread, meat and cheese. Then added those toppings.
The result? DELICIOUS! The bread was thick and chewy on the inside but kind of tough on the outside. Which was a good contrast to the thick-cut pepperoni and cheese. And the Italian dressing topped it all off. Perfecto!
The experience was ruined by some dumb bitch YELLING into her phone. And I’m not exaggerating. I sat on one end of Hubbard Hall, where no one was. So she comes in, fucking selfish as hell, sits at the table next to me, and proceeds to yell. What was she saying? Who the hell knows? It wasn’t like she was mad. She was just talking. Loudly. Because that’s what annoying, self-involved assholes do. I finally made a huge display, picked up all of my stuff (mind you I had stuff strung everywhere as I was eating, studying, writing, and texting). And moved to the OPPOSITE end of the building. And what does that bitch do? Fucking starts pacing the length of the building. Then stops. Where I’m sitting (along with three other people studying). I swear to God. Who raises these children because they need to be held accountable for this bullshit.
Alright, sorry for the swearing.
My point is, aside from this lunch-ruiner, my sandwich was DELICIOUS! The service was good. And after that bitch finally left the building (still talking loudly, and about herself I assume, because that’s what those kinds of people do), I enjoyed some peaceful studying.
Dear Delicious sandwich- I’d eat you again, assuming this time we agree you protect me from awful people! Consider it, Kelly