W5: How I Narrowly Escaped Becoming a Subway Addict

I am a creature of habit. I have coffee every morning, have worn the same brand of "brown black" Almay eyeliner since the tenth grade and, for two years, I had Subway at least twice a week.

That doesn't sound like much, I know, but, to put it in perspective -- I worked at a movie theater, and I would go to Subway pretty much every time I had a shift with a scheduled break. I didn't work a whole lot (15-20 hours, which at the time seemed like the fast-track to moolah) and some of the shifts were only 4 hours so I didn't get a break, but still.

I was in that Subway on the corner so often that eventually it got to the point that I'd walk in and my six-inch veggie sub (untoasted) on Italian herbs and cheese bread with pepper jack cheese, spinach, banana peppers, tomatoes, green peppers and Italian dressing would be practically waiting for me. Sometimes I'd walk on the wild side and add cucumbers and/or jalepenos, or get the sour cream and onion chips instead of the barbeque Lays.

Now excuse me while I take a break from blogging and walk to the nearest Subway. Photo from Myinterestingfacts.com.

When your co-workers don't even have to ask you what you want from Subway when they go on a lunch run, it really puts the semi-patheticness of your life in perspective.

Plus, Subway is expensive. Especially on a $7.35/hour payroll.

Other than my brief encounter with almost changing my middle name to "eat fresh," I can't say I have much of a fast food story. Growing up, my mother made dinner almost every night, and when we went out as a family, it was always to somewhere classier -- like Applebee's. McDonald's, Wendy's and Burger King splurges were saved for days at the mall food court or when my mom felt guilty for making Emily and I go grocery shopping for hours with her. After spending what felt like four years and seventeen days waiting while she picked out which dish soap to get, getting a Happy Meal with a mini Barbie doll or Beanie Baby inside totally made up for it.


But what makes fast food so American? For one, it's cheap. For another, it's quick, easy, and doesn't require much effort. And some of it is pretty okay in the taste/nutrient department. When I think of the "typical" American -- white, middle class, family of three or four -- I imagine them being harried, stingy, lazy and willing to settle for whatever can help them move on to the next task ASAP. Enter fast food.

Fast food is just so convenient, and Americans love convenience, which is why it's so much easier to just throw that plastic bottle away instead of searching for a recycle bin or buying plastic bottles in the first place instead of investing in a water purifier. Americans like to confront other countries about their problems, but we stay in denial about issues close to home, like when people complain and spew hatred at whoever just got elected to office but then make up some excuse as to why they weren't at the voting booth anyway. So it's easy to deny that fast food isn't the greatest source of nom for you, but not actually do anything to lower the consumption.

I don't think it's the actual food at fast food restaurants that makes it American-oriented -- sure, hamburgers and french fries give off a States vibe, but are they really rooted in pure American cuisine? -- but the operation. It appeals to the overwhelmed soccer mom, the preoccupied city slicker, and the tight-on-cash working teenager.

What makes fast food so American?

It fits so snugly in the "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" mentality, which is A-OK by habitual people like me. ---