Disappointment With A Side Of Pickles
Sub shops always get my order wrong.
I cringe every time someone suggests eating at a sub shop. It tends to be on road trips or when people are in a hurry, when there aren’t other options to consider or time for negotiation. But it’s just as frustrating every single time.
Just going in one makes me start to feel anxious, because there’s no way to actually make it work. The “veggie” sub option is usually full of things I can’t or won’t eat, and trying to make modifications makes it even more complicated. And then, even with spending what feels like forever at the counter or customizing an order on the app, I’ve never just walked into a sub shop and gotten my order made correctly.
There’s always meat or some type of cheese I’m unfamiliar with; sometimes, I’ve had mushrooms, which disgust me deeply and I can still usually taste even after removing them. I’ve wondered, sometimes, if I’m a supertaster, because I seem to be able to taste things very strongly even when they’re supposed to be mild or distinguish flavors of things others can’t tell apart. It just makes something like this more difficult.
I try to watch what’s going on behind the counter, but on a road trip, I feel like I can’t inconvenience the other people I’m with. It’s easier to order on the phone or through an app, and if everyone but me gets theirs right, it’s hard to make a fuss. After all, it is technically my fault. It’s my phobia, my obsessions, my rigidity that prevents me from ordering without modifications.
I know I should be used to this by now, but it somehow still feels disappointing every time I go to a sub shop. When I see the words “only” next to certain things and then other things show up on the sandwich, I can’t help but feel like some sort of weirdo who can’t just order the normal people sandwich and be done. I don’t know
I’ve had a lot of similar experiences at other types of restaurants, but it usually plays out in different ways. The looks and the embarrassment stay the same, but I’ve had several times where it’s gone even further.
At a lunch with my coworkers at my old job, where we were sitting at a table with over a dozen people, I ordered pasta at a restaurant that wasn’t Italian, but still threw in a few dishes. It was technically on the menu, but the waitress turned me into the butt of a joke when she announced to the table that I was ordering like a “picky little kid.” Everyone turned to look at me, and the time between that and the next order felt like a decade. I couldn’t wait to flee to the bathroom and stay there until the conversation would pass me by. I slunk back to the table later, ashamed.
And at a convention, one of my favorite places to be, I went with my best friend and their family to an Italian restaurant. They went out of their way to go there for me, but I found meat in my spaghetti marinara. Upset, I tried to switch dishes with my friend who got the cheese ravioli, only to find meat in there as well. At this point, I’d tried enough of the food to worry about the meat potentially making me throw up, and I was obsessing worse than I had in quite a long time as the waitress couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t just eat the dishes as-is.
My allergy provides a convenient excuse for many moments like this, but it’s not foolproof. I can’t pretend to be allergic to something I’m not in a particularly convincing manner, nor do I appreciate the way some people take allergies less seriously because they think everyone’s faking.
I definitely understand the rationale, though – for people who respect allergies, it’s a quick way out of a situation that’s making me anxious. And it helps in a culture where, as one of my favorite Tumblr posts says, if people find out someone can eat something but doesn’t like it, “people will hound them, mock them, coax them, harass them, try to force them to eat it, or even trick them into eating it, and they will never hear the end of it.” (from a-spoon-is-born)
So, when I go to a sub shop, or any other place where I feel the need to modify what’s on the menu even slightly, all of that is going through my head. Not just the negative experiences I’ve had, but possible comebacks if I get questioned, ways to interrupt food being made incorrectly, and what mistakes I’m willing to put up with on that particular menu.
I understand that making food to order is complicated and not necessarily possible – for instance, if sandwiches are premade, or if something’s already mixed in the sauce. But for me, these experiences are just another reminder that I’m different. And here’s the thing – I don’t need a reminder of that. On days when I’m feeling frustrated or ashamed of something already, it just compounds what I already know – and on days when I’m doing really well, it feels like a setback because no matter how hard I try, there are some textures, smells, and types of food that I’m not ready or willing to try.
I do my best to present as neurotypical or “normal” as possible, and times like these throw a big wrench in my plans, my self-confidence, and my ability to eat a decent meal. It’s something I’m still learning to live with and something I may never fully get used to. And it’s something I bring to your attention for a reason: even if you’re not in the food service industry, you can help people like me in this situation in several ways:
· Try to be tolerant if someone’s taking a long time to analyze the menu or asks for help determining what things are. As someone trying to introduce new foods in my diet, I sometimes don’t know what ingredients are or what they taste like, and people with more varied palates can offer explanations.
· If someone seems to be ashamed of what they’re ordering, draw attention away from them. It’s embarrassing enough to do a special order without having a whole table of people watching and commenting.
· Stick up for your friend or loved one if anyone is making inappropriate comments, and help them speak up for themselves if they’re having trouble getting what they need.
· Even if what someone is ordering seems funny to you, it may be deeply embarrassing to the person ordering it. They might seem okay with you making jokes, but it might hurt more than you’ll ever know.
· If a particular place or type of cuisine causes a lot of stress for someone, try to visit those places less when you’re with them – that way, you won’t completely lose out on a place you enjoy, but your friend also won’t have to feel stressed.
Ellie, a writer new to the Chicago area, was diagnosed with OCD at age 3. She hopes to educate others about her condition and end the stigma against mental illness.