Here’s a matter I think we need to discuss–extraneous crap on sandwiches. Now, this extraneous crap is usually mayonnaise. Of course, mayonnaise on a sandwich is not always extraneous. Sometimes, it’s very tasty and brings a sandwich together. But other times, you can just tell that some fast food exec was like “Um, we can’t have nothing on this sandwich. Put some mayo on there!” And, inevitably, they will place the mayo right on top of the iceberg lettuce, which is inevitably wet, which causes the mayo to lose viscosity (or maybe gain viscosity… become more liquid anyway) and shoot right out the back of your sandwich, using the lettuce as a slide down which it gains momentum.
People of earth, if all your mayo is doing is sliding off your sandwich onto the clothing of the sandwich eater, you don’t need it on the sandwich.
But this is not a rant against the over-mayo-fication of our culture. Or at least not solely.
This is a rant about how my mom, still, insists on ruining perfectly good peanut butter and jelly sandwiches through the addition of butter. It’s peanutbutter, Mom. Why would I need another layer of butter beneath it? And how does she even get the jelly to spread once she’s lubed up the bread?
And why, more importantly, does she continue to guilt us into letting her make us sandwiches so that she can “feel useful,” even though she is already incredibly and awesomely useful merely by being alive? And why, after almost four decades, does she still put butter on my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?
But most importantly, you may ask, why am I ranting about my mom, who’s busy with her life up in Illinois?
Fucking mayo dripping out of my sandwich onto me at lunch.
Just had me thinking about bullshit sandwich practices.
Maybe we could just make a law that food vendors may not put mayo and lettuce right next to each other on sandwiches.
I don’t know. I need to call Thelma Harper about this, I think. I wonder if you have to wear a stylish hat just to speak with her? Maybe I should just stick with Gary Moore. I think I’d have an easier time getting together a stylish mustache than finding an appropriate hat that would fit my giant head.