Burn It!!
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“Back when I used to work at a Subway, I’ve seen a couple gross ones.
Here’s a few I can remember:
This obese guy would walk in a couple times a week and ask for the cold cut combo. He then asked for a ton of lettuce followed by the largest amount of mayonnaise you can imagine. He always emptied half the cup of mayo. It was probably more than enough mayo for 12-15 average customers. He then added a few other vegetables and was good to go. It always made me sick making him such a sandwich as I knew I was killing him.
At Subway, you can ask to grill vegetables with your bread/cheese/meat. I always grilled onions and peppers with mine for the flavor. Anyways, this guy walks in and asks me to grill his sub at the END, after asking for lettuce, pickles and sauce on it. Mmm, hot pickles?”
That’s Right, All The Flavors
“I was in line behind a guy. He got a chicken bacon ranch, double meat and cheese. Nothing weird yet.
No toppings. Whatever, a lot of meat and cheese, cool
Then he askes for all the sauces. Ooookay.
The Subway gal put a little line of each one on. Not good enough. We wanted it to be drenched in every sauce. He got a faint glob for each sauce plus had them add marinara. When they tried to close the sandwich and cut it, it was oozing. He grabs it and sits down, basically slurping the freaking thing.
I was planning on eating there but just couldn’t. Got it to go and got the heck out of there. One of the grossest things I have ever seen.”
You Want…Cookies On Your Sub?!
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“My friend would mess with Subway workers and ask for cookies on his sub. It was always complete confusion from all employees followed by ‘Oh forget it, I don’t get paid enough to stop this,’ followed by ‘you seriously want me to put cookies on this sub?’ He always took the cookies off right after he left and told people it was a joke but the real reason? 90%+ of the time they’d give him the cookies for free. It really takes you out of your comfort zone to make an Italian sub with two chocolate chip cookies on it apparently”
This Guy Is Way Too Happy
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“Ok, check it. Dude comes in like he’s never been to a Subway before. Ok, whatever, I’m ready to help, but he also acts like he has never even had nor heard of a sandwich before.
You see, he gets the honey oat foot long, and that is where the logic stops. This joker asks what’s good, and I tell him that I like the meatball marinara. He gets that (with extra marinara mind you) and before I can even ask him about his cheese choice, he points to the tuna and asks ‘eww, what’s that?’ I tell him what it is, he takes a good minute to think, and then he’s like ‘Ok, I’ll get that too.’ I pause for a second trying to process what he is asking me.
Let me tell you I take the title ‘sandwich artist’ seriously, and I did not feel like an artist while spreading pasty tuna on to a marinara soaked honey oat loaf. I felt dirty. So to follow this nutball’s train of logic, he has me double toast it without cheese, take it out, and he says two words that shook me to my core. ‘Honey mustard.’ I am an honest man, I like to think. A good man if I’m being generous, but I cannot think that any god that wouldn’t make me suffer for helping craft this abomination. I squeeze the bottle and give him three thick lines of that tangy sauce. He says ‘more.’ I give him more. I close it with an audible squelch emitting from the sub, I wrap it up, and when I look up to accept his money I see his face. I see the excitement of a child about to go on a roller coaster for the first time, the guy is giddy, practically electrified with glee. I give him his foot long effigy to sin incarnate, he leaves the store, and I go in the back to slice bell peppers and try to forget.”
“It Was An Experience That Left Us Slightly Shaken”
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“In Lynchburg, Tennesse we stopped by at a local Subway. After ordering our sandwiches we sat down and watched a gentleman come in and order a salad. But he quickly explained he didn’t want lettuce or ‘any of that veggie crap.’ He wanted tuna. ALL the tuna. After putting in a few scoops the sandwich artist asked him if that was enough to which he replied ‘keep going.’ After a few more scoops the artist mentioned that he’d have to charge extra to which the reply was ‘I’ll tell you when to stop.’ At this point me and the artist exchanged ‘what the…’ glances.
By the end, the entire plastic salad bowl was filled with tuna. He asked for a few pickles and olives and some mayonnaise then happily left. I believe the total came in well over $20.
We were captivated and had so many questions. Why not just buy the tuna at a grocery store? Who loves tuna that much? Why would you get tuna from a Subway? It was an experience that left us astounded and slightly shaken.”
The Uneatable Sandwich
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“When I was a stupid high school boy, my buddy Rob and I used to go to the same Subway at least a couple of times a week. There were two workers there, Mary and Roland, and whenever they transferred, we’d follow them to some other Subway, because they were nice to us and sometimes gave us deals.
One day I went in there and said, ‘Roland, I bet you can’t make me a sub that I can’t eat.’
Roland goes in the back and comes back with two big slabs of processed turkey. When you order a normal sub, that turkey is all sliced up. This was not sliced. It was just a freaking brick of meat about an inch and a half thick.
He loaded it up with all the regular toppings, no screaming hot sauce or anything, and said, there you go.
Stupid high school boy me thought this fool doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. I asked for inedible, and he gave me extra meat! Ten minutes later and this thing is down the belly hatch.
But a strange thing happens when you have to chew large portions of processed meat for a long time: you realize why they slice it up like that. It’s because it’s full of big disgusting chunks of gristle, blobs of fat, probably a beak or two, whatever made it into the turkey blender before it was pressed into a can.
I can’t remember whether I puked. Stupid high school boys puke a lot. But I do remember that I didn’t even finish six inches of that thing. God bless Roland, wherever he ended up, not only did he win the bet, he made a sandwich that still haunts my dreams 25 years later.”
The Hot Chocolate Is Too Much
“We have a regular that comes in every Wednesday. He orders our sub of the day – pepperoni, ham, meatballs, cheese and toasted.
Orders ‘all salad.’ So that’s lettuce, cucumber, tomato, peppers, onions, jalapeños, plus double pickles, sweetcorn, olives, and carrot.
That’s not even it.
Sauces: honey mustard, Caesar, bbq, ranch, chipotle, sweet onion.
All of this, all at once. Plus hot chocolate. When we see her coming, we make sure to pick out the flattest bread we can find to fit this monstorisity. Uf we don’t have any, scooping out some of the soft bread in the middle helps too.
I hate this woman.”
Onion Extravaganza
“When I was a young teen in high school, I apparently made the most disgusting sandwich, according to the person making it.
A pal and I were going halfsies on the sub so the base of it was a sweet onion chicken teriyaki with provolone. Get it toasted and on the cheese and herb foot-long bread. For my friend’s half, she asked for lettuce, tomato, and a decent amount of mayo and sweet onion sauce.
For my side, I ordered heavy lettuce, heavy tomato, heavy onions, green peppers, onions, pickles, extremely heavy onions, mayo, sweet onion sauce, a ton of vinegar, more onions, banana peppers, pepper, and more onions. I specify this because I really love onions. Seriously, don’t mess with my love of onions.
The guy making the sandwich almost seemed to clearly not hear me say that I FREAKING WANTED A MOUNTAIN OF ONIONS ON MY SIDE OF THE SUB. Give me my onions, you dirty sandwich artist!!!
It was as if he was grabbing handfuls of onions only to drop them all back into the container to barely sprinkle any on my sub. Even my friend got upset at the guy and told him to stop messing around with the onions and to just drop a solid handful on my sandwich. The look on his face was unlike any I’ve ever seen, as if I had kicked his dog or something.
Forget you, Subway dude. I ate that onion sandwich like it was the most heavenly thing ever (it was) while I bitterly stared at the guy. If I had the chance, I would’ve held him down and exhaled deep into his soul with my pungently delicious breath.”
There Are Disgusting Pizza’s Too
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“The most disgusting thing I had to make, hands down, wasn’t even a sandwich. At my Subway, we had pizzas too. Like little personal ones.
One day this guy comes in with a list. I’m already kind of dreading him ordering because a list usually means 3+ sandwiches, and they’re almost never complete, they always forget to write down type of bread or something. But this guy looks at me kinda weirdly and shakes his head when I ask him what he wants. Like he doesn’t even want to tell me. He then asks if we serve pizza. We do. He orders a pizza, then right before I’m about to pop it into the toaster to cook it, he asks if I can put tuna on there before I toast it. Okay. Weird, but still palatable, I guess? So I slather tuna all over this pizza. Then the guy asks if I can also put ALL the veggies on this pizza before I cook it too. I ask him if he’s sure. He nodded and so I put all the veggies on this tuna pizza. That includes lettuce and spinach. So now this dude is gonna have hot lettuce and spinach on his pizza, along with every other veggie.
Finally, before I cooked it, he asked for a good amount of mayo and hot sauce on it. This monstrosity complete, I threw it in the oven. It smelled so bad when I pulled it out, and the mayo had melted and gone to a weird shiny yellow. When I rang him out he apologized and explained it was for a friend, and that he would never order for this friend again because of how freaking gross this looked.”
White Bread, White Salt
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“I used to work at a Subway in Australia.
A few times a lady would come in and ask for a foot long white bread and salt. Literally nothing but untoasted white bread and salt. She was full on willing to pay 8 bucks AUD for it too but my supervisor would change the price down to like, 3 bucks because she felt guilty charging her so much for so little. It’s mostly confusing because we’re right next to a grocery store so she could like, buy herself some white bread and salt and be able to make MANY sandwiches for the same price she was willing to pay, but she didn’t. Well, I assume she didn’t, because she came to our store instead. “
Burn It, Please
“I worked at Subway for about a year. There was a lovely older lady that would come in a few times a week after her shift at Walmart, and she’d get subs for herself and her husband. Her sub was fine, but her husband’s sub, oh god. It was a footlong white sub, with double steak, and he liked it BURNT, so burnt that I normally would put it on the pizza setting THREE TIMES. Once it was literally a charred mess, I’d put about half a bottle of mayo on it. That was it. Our Subway was very small, and a few times making this sandwich set off the smoke alarm, and it always made the place smell terrible for at least an hour afterward. The only other one that stood out to me was another regular, and she got a footlong white sub, simply with an ungodly amount of both black olives and mayo. It was honestly horrible looking, I have no idea how she ate it.”
If You Thought The Sandwich Was Bad…
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“I worked at Subway for about a year in college. A large, seemingly-mentally-ill guy came in once and ordered an Italian sub with no veggies and every sauce. Every. Sauce. At the time, we were boasting around 14 sauces or so. We had everything from sweet onion to honey mustard to southwestern chipotle. I almost threw up as I sent the goopy, dripping monstrosity through the toaster.
Of course, it couldn’t be a ‘to-go’ order. He just HAD to sit down in front of us and started snacking. Heaps of barbecue sauce and ranch dressing and chipotle mayonnaise went dribbling down his cheeks every time he took a bite.
His eating process was slow, disgusting, and methodical. He would eat two bites, set the sandwich down, and wait five minutes. He never looked around or spoke to anyone after he’d paid. He simply stared, dead-eyed, into the corner. Bite, bite, wait. Bite, bite, wait. Tiny bites. He didn’t wipe his face.
After a few bites, he would stand up and move to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he’d return to his viscous sandwich blob and resume. Bites, wait, bathroom, resume, repeat. A full hour and a half it took this bizarre space alien to finish that thing. Must’ve gone to the toilet at least six times.
At first, I thought he was intentionally inducing vomiting, but the bathroom was completely clean after he left. No signs of volcano vomit or anything. If not for the gobs of food snot dripping on his cheeks, it’d have been like that bit in Breaking Bad where Gus puts a little towel down for his knees and pukes up the poison. It was just so freaking serial killer methodical. But the smell, though…like chicken soup and old gym socks were microwaved together for twenty minutes.
Anyway, that. That’s the grossest. I almost puked just making that thing, let alone watching a man ingest it.”
Twenty-Four Slices Of Cheese!
“The guy who got cucumbers and lettuce on his meatball sub grossed me out a little. so did the guy who would get 24 (24!!!) slices of American cheese on his meatball sub. Like, we had provolone, mozzarella, AND parmesan (well, the crappy stuff anyway). He wouldn’t get any of those. Just meatballs and 24 slices of American cheese. He’d watch to make sure we put all 24 on.”
The $50 Salad
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“I was eating in a Subway once and an Italian guy walks in and requests a salad. As the young girl behind the counter kept putting things on it the guy would say things like ‘more, sweetie, more. Keep going, I’ll tell you when to stop. I don’t care what the stupid thing costs just don’t stop putting stuff on there until I tell you.’
He was a straight-up guido and while overweight and in his mid-40s, he wasn’t grossly obese. He was talking about how he needed it for watching football later in the day and how he was on a strict diet because of blood pressure or some such and his wife would kill him if he was eating this crap.
His salad came out to like $50.”
Brotherly Love
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“Picture this: me, a 16-year-old sandwich artist, working happily at a local Subway. Enter my brother, 23 and probably the biggest troll I know. I see him enter that double entrance (standalone store) and immediately dread hits my stomach as I happily wish my last customer a good day. Me and him enter our positions ready to battle.
‘Bread?’
‘Footlong flatbread.’
At this point, I’m already annoyed because flatbread sucks to deal with and he even wanted me to toast it alone before he even tells me the meat.
‘What type of sandwich?’
‘I want a double meat meatball sandwich with extra American cheese on the meat directly and then microwaved.’
I almost reached across the food bane and slapped him. Why? A regular meatball sandwich has 2 on each half which leaves little room for basically any veggies. Then on top of that, I have to double meat. That means the only other room on that bread is the bottom side for 2 more on each half. BUT WAIT, didn’t I say it was a flatbread? Now I don’t have a degree in physics but trying to fit meatBALLS on FLATbread is easily a form of torture. Also that there were too many balls for the flimsy flatbread could handle.
So after what I would consider the true form of wrangling, I somehow fit 8 meatballs and 8 pieces of cheese on this poor 12-inch long piece of flatbread.
‘Veggies sir?’
At this point, you might be able to predict what my sadistic brother says next.
‘I want all the veggies and all the sauces and seasonings.’
At this point, I was so frustrated from the previous meatball balancing act that I slapped on everything in a carefree manner being absolutely done with this bull. This thing was a wreck. An honest to god pile of marina and balls and veggies all rolling around.
I lost a ball on my way from the bane to the paper but I double wrapped the sucker because that was the only way I could fold it. My brother smugly looks at me as I give him his huge total of 19 dollars or something.
I farted on his pillow that night.”
The King And Queen Of Mayo
“I have two.
I had a guy have me make a pizza. Pizzas have to be in the toaster for like 1.5 minutes or so. The toppings? Seafood sensation and spinach. So, after a few times of ‘are you sure? This seafood is like 40% mayo,’ I threw it in. He didn’t want cheese, so the spinach leaves blew around and disintegrated in the oven, and he was left with a melted down brown seafood pizza. We were left with the awful fish stick smell.
The worst sub I made was a meatball marinara that had extra sauce and a literal bottle of mayo. Impossible to cut it in half. It just sorts of…mushed and the bread separated itself, so I threw it in the wrapper and bag. The customer and his wife were then forever known as the king and queen of mayonnaise, may god’s smile shine down upon them.”
Piles And Piles Of Pickles
“This one guy came in Every. Single. Day. He ordered the same sandwich. He would get cheesy bread and put a ridiculous amount of mayonnaise on the sandwich. I would wind up using about half a large squeeze bottle on his sandwich. He would want layers upon layers of tomatoes. Like, an inch of just tomatoes. Next was the pickles. Same thing, piles, and piles of pickles. Finally, a very thin normal amount of turkey. The whole thing looked so gross.
Nice guy though, always liked to strike up a conversation, remembered all our names, he was actually one of my favorite customers. He just seemed like a really awkward lonely guy.”
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