Blast off

"Could I please get a rocket sub?" The girl working at Quizno's stared back at me blankly. The look on her face was so void of any reaction to my request and so unaffected that I began to question my own existence. She's literally looking right through me - holy shit, I'm DEAD! I must have been hit by a car while crossing the street just now. OH SHIT! Now how am I going to get my rocket sub? Rocket sub...rocket sub......she wasn't looking through me, she was looking at me with the appropriate blank face you have when some idiot comes in and orders a "rocket sub." Realizing my error I corrected myself and asked, "may I please get a torpedo?" Success! I didn't die on the journey to Quizno's. However, I very well could have been hit by a car - I was like a race horse with blinders on. I practically galloped across the street, feet pounding the pavement like impatient hooves, saliva flooding my eager mouth which was flapping around like a baby searching for a nipple. I think I might be "that weird chick" for a lot of people in my area downtown. I'm usually pretty caught up in what's going on in my head and I'm pretty sure I'm one of those people who unknowingly mumbles to themselves, mouth slightly agape, bewildered look in their eyes. I didn't really care what I looked like though, I just wanted my rocket sub. I'm going to continue to call it that too because it sounds way cooler than torpedo. I'll just have to remember that next time I'm ordering.