Plain Jane

In most respects, I am not a Plain Jane.

I color coordinate my cosmetics, do my hair, and wear carefully selected clothes. I don’t ever leave the house unless my hair is done and NEVER sans lipstick and mascara.

In college, nothing drove me MORE nuts than those girls who showed up to class in wet hair and pajama pants. My poor roommates had to listen to me rant and rave about how time management and personal presentation were lost arts.

Once, I even had a potential suitor tell me that, as much as he liked me, he thought I was too high maintenance for him. He was right! But then again, his idea of a good time was spitting off an overpass.

However, there is one area in which I am totally a Plain Jane – when it comes to sandwiches. Whoever decided that we should slap random food groups on otherwise-perfectly-delicious-sandwiches?

If I wanted a salad, I’d ask for a salad.

And who decided to add vegetables anyway? In my opinion, they do NOTHING for the sandwich. Instead of tasting beef-chicken-tuna-whatever – you taste lettuce, tomato, pickle, and onion. So, why waste money on meat and a bun? Just get a salad, you know?

And who got to decide on veggies? Let’s throw some peanut butter on that chicken sandwich. How about we add maple syrup to that hot-beef-and-cheddar? See what I mean? If you wanted to taste peanut butter, you’d eat peanut butter. Same for maple syrup.

I know, I know. People like to make their sandwiches to their own particular tastes. I mean, otherwise Subway would be out of business, right?

So, I’ve been like this for my whole life, right? And the other day my husband, who has known me for TEN years, brings me sandwich with lettuce, tomato, pickle, and onion.

When I exclaimed, “What?!” He looked down and realized his mistake.

Then, before I could even say it, he held up his hand. “I know. I know. If you wanted a salad, you’d order one.”

You know, maybe I do say that a little too often!