Trying Out the New Sandwich Shop This Week
I stopped by the new sandwich shop over in Meadowlark Village on Wednesday. It had been on my list for a couple weeks, and I needed a break from my desk anyway. Ren came along since he had a light day too.
The place is small, just a counter and a few tables by the window. Sunlight hit the glass and made the metal napkin holders gleam a little too bright, catching on the edge of a half-empty water glass someone had left behind. The air smelled like toasted bread and something sharp from the mustard jar they kept open behind the counter, mixed with a faint trace of vinegar from the pickle jars stacked on a low shelf. I got the roast beef on sourdough with their house mustard. The woman behind the register asked if I wanted a side of the dandelion bud pickles, so I said yes without thinking much about it. They came out cold and a little tangy, which worked fine with the sandwich, though one or two buds were still half-closed and a bit bitter at the stem. Ren went for the ham and swiss and skipped the side, though he kept stealing glances at my pickles while he unwrapped his own sandwich. We split a bag of chips that tasted faintly like the dill they must have used on the ham, the crunch loud enough that I had to brush crumbs off the table twice.
After we ate we walked down the block to drop off a package at the shipping store. The line moved fast, which was good because I still had to swing by the grocery store for milk and a few other things before heading home. Nothing exciting, just the usual midweek list. A woman in front of us kept shifting a heavy box from one arm to the other and muttering about tape that wouldn’t stick, pausing once to peel a loose strip off with her thumbnail. The clerk behind the counter had a radio playing low, some old song with a guitar that kept cutting in and out, the static making the melody sound like it was coming from another room.
On the way back we saw crews starting to set up barricades along the main road. It is the time of year when they get ready for the Midsummer Lantern Walk, so some streets get closed off earlier than others. I always forget how much space they take up with the tables and lights. One of the workers was unrolling orange cones while another tested a string of bulbs that kept flickering on and off, the glow reflecting off the hood of a parked car. A kid on a bike rode past and asked if the lanterns were already up, and the worker just laughed and shook his head. The cones made a hollow plastic sound when they bumped into each other, and one rolled a little before the first worker nudged it back into line with his boot.
At the grocery store I grabbed what I needed and a pack of cookies that were on sale. The self checkout was down again, so I waited for a regular lane. It only added a few minutes. The woman ahead of me had a cart full of frozen meals and kept checking her phone while the cashier scanned each one slowly, the beep of the scanner blending with the low hum of the refrigerators nearby. A little fan on the end of the register blew cool air across the conveyor belt and made the plastic bags rustle. By the time we got home it was almost four, which is later than I planned but still left time to get some work done before dinner. The milk went straight into the fridge and the cookies sat on the counter where Ren kept eyeing them while he unpacked the rest of the bag, nudging the pack an inch closer every time he thought I wasn’t looking.
I might go back to the sandwich shop in a week or two. The bread was fresh and the portions were solid for the price. Next time I will probably try the turkey instead.