subway pimp

During the end of the work week, I usually allow myself to go out to eat for lunch. Because I am on a diet, and my small town doesn’t offer very much in the way of eateries, I mostly go to Subway and order something from their healthier sub selections. When I happen to be working the same shift as one of my coworkers, we’ll often go together. And because most of my coworkers are female, I hang out with a lot of girls.

Today, I went in by myself and the group of girls who worked there mentioned that I was alone.

“Hey, where’s your girlfriends?” one of them shouted.

“Riding solo today,” I replied.

Another one added, “We call you the subway pimp because you always have a different girl with you.” I was slightly embarrassed by that but brushed it off.

“Where’s your pimp hat?” another girl asked.

“Left it in the car.”

We were all kind of laughing about it and smiling and it was all light-hearted and fine. Eventually, everyone scattered except the girl making my sandwich. I pretty much knew they knew these girls I ate with were merely coworkerss but there was that small part of me that had to make sure.

“Um, you all don’t really think I’m seeing all those girls, do you?”

The girl looked up at me and laughed. “Oh, no. We was just playin’ with you.”

“Oh, okay, good,” I said with a slight sigh of relief. “I just wanted to make sure you all didn’t think I was that kind of guy.”  I smiled at her and she smiled back and it was a fun little exchange.

“Naw,” she said. “I told them you probably didn’t even have a girlfriend.”

And that’s when it wasn’t fun anymore.

“What?” I had to make sure I heard her correctly.

“I just said you probably didn’t even have a girlfriend.”

“Oh.  Oh.  Okay…”

I went from being an imaginary mac daddy to a real-life loser.  Even strangers can tell no one wants me.

“What kinda cheese you want on this?”

After what she just said?

“Every kind.”