Don’t mess with Subway
So, in the midst of all the big stories of the recent weeks, one non-story got some major national play.
Apparently, some people measured some of Subway’s footlong sandwiches and figured out, in some cases, they aren’t really 12 inches long.
So, Subway’s footlong sandwiches are not really 12 inches. Boo hoo. Did you taste the sandwiches?
And were they delicious and did they fill your belly amply?
I think the bigger problem is someone with too much time on their hands.
Do we really have to take everything literally nowadays? Well, apparently we do because there are lawsuits pending against the restaurant for some of the sandwiches not measuring up.
So, does this open a Pandora’s Box to go attack things that aren’t really the size they claim?
Are those footlong hot dogs always 12 inches too? I doubt it.
Maybe these same people should investigate this wiener conspiracy and alert their lawyers.
I also hate to burst your bubble but many of those 7-foot tall players in the NBA aren’t really that tall either. So, should we sue the NBA for false advertising of their superstars?
Of course not, which only reinforces how ridiculous these Subway lawsuits are.
If it seems like I’m getting on my soap box bear with me, I have a special place in my heart for Subway since 15 years ago eating their low-fat sandwiches helped me lose 65 pounds.
Now it wasn’t an exclusive Subway diet like that Jared dude who lost the weight of a full-sized horse or something, but the sandwiches did help.
I don’t want to be so pro-Subway that I forget about the other fine sandwich restaurants in town including the popular Sub City and the relative newcomer Jimmy John’s. But I just needed to speak up for the restaurant chain since it’s in need of some support right now.
Throughout the past 15 years, my family and friends have been forced to march into Subway with me.
I even got a rare date night last week taking my wife to the Air Force Band show, which was a phenomenal night of entertainment sponsored by the Times-Republican – plug, plug.
So, where did we dine before the band show on this special night without the kids?
You guessed it, Subway.
Sorry ladies, I’m taken. You’ll have to find someone else to lavish fine dining like this on you.
Reporter Andrew Potter is a Tuesday columnist for the Times-Republican. The views expressed in this column are personal views of the writer and don’t necessarily reflect the views of the T-R. Contact Andrew Potter at 641-753-6611 or email@example.com