The Short Goodbye

"Does that have provolone on it?" The gruff cashier asked me.

I had just been daydreaming about where Zeet and I had gone wrong. The second he had opened the door and he hugged me I knew it was over. I knew it was over because he hadn't even showered. Somehow his lack of trying to look presentable for me indicated that it was over. I was busy being sad as I paid for my over priced sandwich, while Zeet already sat down, not even waiting for me.

I was sad, and grieving for the loss of my friendship when the cashier rudely interrupted my thought pattern.

"What?" I said, my credit card hovering above the machine to scan.

"The prosciutto sandwich comes with the provolone, I don't see it. I can't touch your sandwich...Lift up the top for me, let me see."

I was still confused as to why this was becoming such a big deal, but I obliged and lifted the bread on my sandwich. It was sans provolone. I looked at the guy, and the shit hit the fan. He lost it.

"Jerry, are you the one who made this sandwich? You are such a boneheaded idiot, how about adding some cheese to the fucking thing? You are lucky I don't fire your ass right now." He continued to add a string of profanity-laced commands to others before taking my card. It had gone from just paying for my food to a highly awkward situation.

After a minute Jerry returned my sandwich to me, saying he was sorry he forgot my cheese. "I didn't even notice, it's no problem." I smiled at him, sorry that he had such a tyrant for a boss. I've been there to many times not to know his pain.

I picked up my basket of sustenance, and walked over to what was sure to be the most awkward end of a friendship ever.