DT
Dylan Taylor
Apr 15, 2026
This subway experience was truly a reminder that the American dream can also be an American nightmare.
My food was not made with love. Instead, it was made with the fiery touch of what I can only assume was boiling hatred for one’s job and constant need to talk with others.
Both, of which, these employees hated.
The portion sizes were not correct, and as an employee of the Subway franchise myself elsewhere, I can attest.
They also were extremely rude to myself and those joining me——even going as far as to raise their voices whenever we tried to tell them what we wanted, citing we were “too fast” and “putting too much on the other employee.”
We were the only ones in the store at the time.
They did not toast our sandwiches correctly, as they felt like they had been rubbed under Elsa’s armpit by the time we had made it back to our car. I don’t believe they even turned the oven on the “toast” function because none of us heard it go off, just that the door was closed and reopened after a certain time.
My Canadian friend joining me also could not get her Subway number to work because the employee at the register couldn’t differentiate the words “Country” and “County”——a grand depiction of our education system at its finest.
And while also not putting enough protein on the sandwiches, they also put too much sauce at the veggie section, leaving us having a mess in the car.
I was hoping to only have a mess at the Zoo, but apparently my first mistake was thinking I could enjoy food without the constant reminder that fast food is not a job given to those who love it.
This is why minimum wage is $7.25 an hour.
I would not have paid them ¢50 to even touch my bread, let alone slice it or toast it.
I will not be coming back, and if I do, I’ll make sure to stop in to the medical center next door just so I don’t have to take a side trip to the hospital.
One trip at a time, folks!