Subway Sucks
- Thread starter Vox-Pop
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They don't have the fucking brisket sandwhich at Quiznos (at least in my area anymore). Bastards!
I like their Baja Chiken though, and they still have that.
My brother got a stomach virus from Quiznos once (which I then contracted from him), but I've never actually got sick from eating their food.
I like their Baja Chiken though, and they still have that.
My brother got a stomach virus from Quiznos once (which I then contracted from him), but I've never actually got sick from eating their food.
roosters93
Member
Subway rools
You should have then asked for a meatball sub and told him you didn't want the turkey sub. He would have had to throw it away. Then bitched at him for wasting food and thus money, thus getting your turkey sub for 5$.
You gotta know how to work the system man. Either that, or don't even try to complain about it.
You gotta know how to work the system man. Either that, or don't even try to complain about it.
itsinmyveins
Gets to pilot the crappy patrol labors
$5 for a footlong? Man, here footlongs cost like $10 and up 
IamMattFox
Member
A girl cut her finger while making my sub once. I was kind of spooked about getting some sort of disease from it, but I was hungry so I ate it anyway.
That was years ago, so I'm thinking I'm good now.
That was years ago, so I'm thinking I'm good now.
Battersea Power Station
Member
"Mother!"
Name the reference.
Name the reference.
fatigues_gasolini
Member
A subway near me has almost every sub for 5 bucks.
Cauliflower of Love
Banned
Did one of the guys in line tell you to hurry the fuck up, and then proceed to punch/fight you, and you left like a little bitch?
SnakeswithLasers
Member
The Take Out Bandit said:
Seriously, this is the stupidest fucking thread ever.
"HOLY SHIT! I went somewhere and they charged me how much it costs!!! WTF!?!?!"
beelzebozo
Jealous Bastard
i remember when i thought subway was awesome. i was eight or so, and we didn't have a lot of money, and there wasn't a subway near my house. so sometimes after school my mom would pick up my little brother and i, and she'd have a foot long cold cut trio dressed to the gills with vegetables that the three of us would split in a little park near my school. i honestly, at the time, thought i had never had a better sandwich--this was when we could hardly afford to have freakin' deli meat in the house, though, so you can imagine that my sandwich experience was a little limited.
Angry Grimace
Two cannibals are eating a clown. One turns to the other and says "does something taste funny to you?"
They have instructions to tell you that. Getting upset because their marketing slogan doesn't apply to every item on the menu is pretty much the most short-sighted thing I've heard this side of people cancelling Netflix accounts for the 1 dollar Blu-Ray surcharge. You might as well complain that Microsoft said "Xbox 360: $199.99" and it didn't apply to the Elite.
I can't stand being in a line, and someone holds it up because they feel like bitching out an employee for some miniscule amount of money. Old women at grocery stores are fucking pros at it. Must of been in a line for a good 10 minutes while a woman bitched at the poor cashier that her pizzas weren't coming up correctly. Of course the pizzas had a limit on them, and she thought she should be exempt from this limit.
Subway is ok, just ok. Somewhat overrated. Standard cold cut meats, processed sauces, bread is pretty good, boring toppings. They say Eat Fresh, but all their shit seems to come out of a bag that was thawed that morning.
Quiznos almost overdoes it with their fixins, which makes for a sloppy sandwich. The one around here has all these ghetto employees who make the sandwich and touch your money. They go overboard with the sauce, as if you eat shit with tons of ketchup, mayo and hot sauce like they do at home. Take one bite and all the stuff slides out on your plate wtf.
How hard can it be to come up with a decent sandwich shop?
Quiznos almost overdoes it with their fixins, which makes for a sloppy sandwich. The one around here has all these ghetto employees who make the sandwich and touch your money. They go overboard with the sauce, as if you eat shit with tons of ketchup, mayo and hot sauce like they do at home. Take one bite and all the stuff slides out on your plate wtf.
How hard can it be to come up with a decent sandwich shop?
:lolnyong said:
Angry Grimace
Two cannibals are eating a clown. One turns to the other and says "does something taste funny to you?"
It's my experience that when someone complains about the price at the grocery store, 90% of the time it's customer error, generally, failure to adhere to the limits of the sale price and/or picking the wrong size of item to qualify for the sale price.Ferrio said:
Dark Octave
Banned
Well said. They also have a huge red menu that tells you what items are $5.Angry Grimace said:
I woulda just paid the extra $whatever and rocked the full tummy.
Battersea Power Station
Member
lil smoke:
There is an art to the business of making sandwiches which it is given to few ever to find the time to explore in depth. It is a simple task, but the opportunities for satisfaction are many and profound: choosing the right bread for instance. The Sandwich Maker had spent many months in daily consultation and experiment with Grarp the baker and eventually they had between them created a loaf of exactly the consistency that was dense enough to slice thinly and neatly, while still being light, moist and having that fine nutty flavour which best enhanced the savour of roast Perfectly Normal Beast flesh.
There was also the geometry of the slice to be refined: the precise relationships between the width and height of the slice and also its thickness which would give the proper sense of bulk and weight to the finished sandwich: here again, lightness was a virtue, but so too were firmness, generosity and that promise of succulence and savour that is the hallmark of a truly intense sandwich experience.
The proper tools, of course, were crucial, and many were the days that the Sandwich Maker, when not engaged with the Baker at his oven, would spend with Strinder the Tool Maker, weighing and balancing knives, taking them to the forge and back again. Suppleness, strength, keenness of edge, length and balance were all enthusiastically debated, theories put forward, tested, refined, and many was the evening when the Sandwich Maker and the Tool Maker could be seen silhouetted against the light of the setting sun and the Tool Maker's forge making slow sweeping movements through the air trying one knife after another, comparing the weight of this one with the balance of another, the suppleness of a third and the handle binding of a fourth.
Three knives altogether were required. First there was the knife for the slicing of the bread: a firm, authoritative blade which imposed a clear and defining will on a loaf. Then there was the butter-spreading knife, which was a whippy little number but still with a firm backbone to it. Early versions had been a little too whippy, but now the combination of flexibility with a core of strength was exactly right to achieve the maximum smoothness and grace of spread.
The chief amongst the knives, of course, was the carving knife. This was the knife that would not merely impose its will on the medium through which it moved, as did the bread knife; it must work with it, be Guided by the grain of the meat, to achieve slices of the most exquisite consistency and translucency, that would slide away in filmy folds from the main hunk of meat. The Sandwich Maker would then flip each sheet with a smooth flick of the wrist on to the beautifully proportioned lower bread slice, trim it with four deft strokes and then at last perform the magic that the children of the village so longed to gather round and watch with rapt attention and wonder. With just four more dexterous flips of the knife he would assemble the trimmings into a perfectly fitting jigsaw of pieces on top of the primary slice. For every sandwich the size and shape of the trimmings were different, but the Sandwich Maker would always effortlessly and without hesitation assemble them into a pattern which fitted perfectly. A second layer of meat and a second layer of trimmings, and the main act of creation would be accomplished.
The Sandwich Maker would pass what he had made to his assistant who would then add a few slices of newcumber and fladish and a touch of splagberry sauce, and then apply the topmost layer of bread and cut the sandwich with a fourth and altogether plainer knife. It was not that these were not also skillful operations, but they were lesser skills to be performed by a dedicated apprentice who would one day, when the Sandwich Maker finally laid down his tools, take over from him. It was an exalted position and that apprentice, Drimple, was the envy of his fellows. There were those in the village who were happy chopping wood, those who were content carrying water, but to be the Sandwich Maker was very heaven.
And so the Sandwich Maker sang as he worked.
He was using the last of the year's salted meat. It was a little past its best now, but still the rich savour of Perfectly Normal Beast meat was something unsurpassed in any of the Sandwich Maker's previous experience. Next week it was anticipated that the Perfectly Normal Beasts would appear again for their regular migration, whereupon the whole village would once again be plunged into frenetic action: hunting the Beasts, killing perhaps six, maybe even seven dozen of the thousands that thundered past. Then the Beasts must be rapidly butchered and cleaned, with most of the meat salted to keep it through the winter months until the return migration in the spring, which would replenish their supplies.
The very best of the meat would be roasted straight away for the feast that marked the Autumn Passage. The celebrations would last for three days of sheer exuberance, dancing and stories that Old Thrashbarg would tell of how the hunt had gone, stories that he would have been busy sitting making up in his hut while the rest of the village was out doing the actual hunting.
And then the very, very best of the meat would be saved from the feast and delivered cold to the Sandwich Maker. And the Sandwich Maker would exercise on it the skills that he had brought to them from the gods, and make the exquisite Sandwiches of the Third Season, of which the whole village would partake before beginning, the next day, to prepare themselves for the rigours of the coming winter...
There is an art to the business of making sandwiches which it is given to few ever to find the time to explore in depth. It is a simple task, but the opportunities for satisfaction are many and profound: choosing the right bread for instance. The Sandwich Maker had spent many months in daily consultation and experiment with Grarp the baker and eventually they had between them created a loaf of exactly the consistency that was dense enough to slice thinly and neatly, while still being light, moist and having that fine nutty flavour which best enhanced the savour of roast Perfectly Normal Beast flesh.
There was also the geometry of the slice to be refined: the precise relationships between the width and height of the slice and also its thickness which would give the proper sense of bulk and weight to the finished sandwich: here again, lightness was a virtue, but so too were firmness, generosity and that promise of succulence and savour that is the hallmark of a truly intense sandwich experience.
The proper tools, of course, were crucial, and many were the days that the Sandwich Maker, when not engaged with the Baker at his oven, would spend with Strinder the Tool Maker, weighing and balancing knives, taking them to the forge and back again. Suppleness, strength, keenness of edge, length and balance were all enthusiastically debated, theories put forward, tested, refined, and many was the evening when the Sandwich Maker and the Tool Maker could be seen silhouetted against the light of the setting sun and the Tool Maker's forge making slow sweeping movements through the air trying one knife after another, comparing the weight of this one with the balance of another, the suppleness of a third and the handle binding of a fourth.
Three knives altogether were required. First there was the knife for the slicing of the bread: a firm, authoritative blade which imposed a clear and defining will on a loaf. Then there was the butter-spreading knife, which was a whippy little number but still with a firm backbone to it. Early versions had been a little too whippy, but now the combination of flexibility with a core of strength was exactly right to achieve the maximum smoothness and grace of spread.
The chief amongst the knives, of course, was the carving knife. This was the knife that would not merely impose its will on the medium through which it moved, as did the bread knife; it must work with it, be Guided by the grain of the meat, to achieve slices of the most exquisite consistency and translucency, that would slide away in filmy folds from the main hunk of meat. The Sandwich Maker would then flip each sheet with a smooth flick of the wrist on to the beautifully proportioned lower bread slice, trim it with four deft strokes and then at last perform the magic that the children of the village so longed to gather round and watch with rapt attention and wonder. With just four more dexterous flips of the knife he would assemble the trimmings into a perfectly fitting jigsaw of pieces on top of the primary slice. For every sandwich the size and shape of the trimmings were different, but the Sandwich Maker would always effortlessly and without hesitation assemble them into a pattern which fitted perfectly. A second layer of meat and a second layer of trimmings, and the main act of creation would be accomplished.
The Sandwich Maker would pass what he had made to his assistant who would then add a few slices of newcumber and fladish and a touch of splagberry sauce, and then apply the topmost layer of bread and cut the sandwich with a fourth and altogether plainer knife. It was not that these were not also skillful operations, but they were lesser skills to be performed by a dedicated apprentice who would one day, when the Sandwich Maker finally laid down his tools, take over from him. It was an exalted position and that apprentice, Drimple, was the envy of his fellows. There were those in the village who were happy chopping wood, those who were content carrying water, but to be the Sandwich Maker was very heaven.
And so the Sandwich Maker sang as he worked.
He was using the last of the year's salted meat. It was a little past its best now, but still the rich savour of Perfectly Normal Beast meat was something unsurpassed in any of the Sandwich Maker's previous experience. Next week it was anticipated that the Perfectly Normal Beasts would appear again for their regular migration, whereupon the whole village would once again be plunged into frenetic action: hunting the Beasts, killing perhaps six, maybe even seven dozen of the thousands that thundered past. Then the Beasts must be rapidly butchered and cleaned, with most of the meat salted to keep it through the winter months until the return migration in the spring, which would replenish their supplies.
The very best of the meat would be roasted straight away for the feast that marked the Autumn Passage. The celebrations would last for three days of sheer exuberance, dancing and stories that Old Thrashbarg would tell of how the hunt had gone, stories that he would have been busy sitting making up in his hut while the rest of the village was out doing the actual hunting.
And then the very, very best of the meat would be saved from the feast and delivered cold to the Sandwich Maker. And the Sandwich Maker would exercise on it the skills that he had brought to them from the gods, and make the exquisite Sandwiches of the Third Season, of which the whole village would partake before beginning, the next day, to prepare themselves for the rigours of the coming winter...
Dark Octave
Banned
:lol WTF? smoke wrote six lines and you reply to him with the yellow pages.Battersea Power Station said:
jamesinclair
Banned
Thats weird. I got a turkey + bacon + cheese for $5 recently.
The sign said all footlong subs = 5$
The sign said all footlong subs = 5$
BakedPigeon
Banned
Has anyone seen the advertisement for that new pizza / chicken sub? Looks like fucking shit.
Night_Trekker
Member
nyong said:
I was just about to post this
reggieandTFE
Member
The subway by me still has $5 footlongs for all subs. Others I've been to in Chicago only have 6 choices. Here's 3 useless facts about Subway $5 footlongs.
1) I'm a vegetarian and the footlong veggie sub is actually $.31 more than it used to be.
2) A friend's girlfriend owns a subway and sales went up 50% after the 5$ deal started.
3) The "five-dollar footlooooooooong!" jingle may be the most annoying in history.
1) I'm a vegetarian and the footlong veggie sub is actually $.31 more than it used to be.
2) A friend's girlfriend owns a subway and sales went up 50% after the 5$ deal started.
3) The "five-dollar footlooooooooong!" jingle may be the most annoying in history.
fatigues_gasolini
Member
GuessWho said:
I worked at a Subway in a truck stop and some greasy trucker came up and ordered a bacon sub. Thats it, just bacon. I mustve put about 30 pieces of bacon on that thing.
The BBC's Panorama special on Sandwiches pretty much killed our Subway!
Never been a huge fan, but when they worked out a footlong meatball sub had as much salt as EIGHTEEN packets of crisps, that pretty much put everyone off seeing all the packets of crisps piled up.
Never been a huge fan, but when they worked out a footlong meatball sub had as much salt as EIGHTEEN packets of crisps, that pretty much put everyone off seeing all the packets of crisps piled up.
beelzebozo
Jealous Bastard
Darklord said:
hey now, it's called a $5 foot long. not a $5.30 foot long. overcharge!
Escape Goat
Member
My Subway thread was better!
AndresON777
shooting blanks
In metro atlanta all the subs are 5 bucks unless you get double meat. Funny thing is I only ever order meatball.
Gotta try Quiznos those pics look yummy.
Gotta try Quiznos those pics look yummy.
SnakeswithLasers
Member
Borgnine said:
Well, at least ONE good thing came out of this thread.
Jugendstil
Member
I have a horrible relationship with the Subway by my office. The subs are bland and terrible, but it's cheap and its the closest option so I end up going there all the time because I'm lazy and I am filled with self-loathing for doing so.
I hate going and seeing people like the OP argue or make a scene. It's fast food. You paid $5 (or $6!!!) for it. It's essentially cat food on some bread. Just pay and get out. Stop holding up the damn line and bothering the Indian immigrants that are working there! Watching people order at Subway is like some sort of intelligence test. If you take more than a minute to get your food, YOU FAIL.
I hate going and seeing people like the OP argue or make a scene. It's fast food. You paid $5 (or $6!!!) for it. It's essentially cat food on some bread. Just pay and get out. Stop holding up the damn line and bothering the Indian immigrants that are working there! Watching people order at Subway is like some sort of intelligence test. If you take more than a minute to get your food, YOU FAIL.
toxicgonzo
Taxes?! Isn't this the line for Metallica?
Forget you haters, I still love subway and I even worked there one summer
This is the only thing I can think of when I think of horrible Subway
IT'S SO TRUE!
That said, "unnecessary dairy overlap" and "soul-crushing disappointment" have become regular phrases used to describe subway.
Oh, and Quiznos fucking sucks. Everyone of those god-forsaken franchises is run by some cheap fuck hell-bent on saving every nickel and dime they can.
IT'S SO TRUE!
That said, "unnecessary dairy overlap" and "soul-crushing disappointment" have become regular phrases used to describe subway.
Oh, and Quiznos fucking sucks. Everyone of those god-forsaken franchises is run by some cheap fuck hell-bent on saving every nickel and dime they can.
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