Emo Boy

Last week was kind of a sad week for me. Said goodbye to a job I didn't exactly want to leave and to some coworkers that I kind of miss already. I also said goodbye (unofficially) to Emo Boy.

Emo Boy, for starters, is not really emo. He has emo-like black glasses, but he's possibly got a bigger beer gut I've ever seen on an emo person. He seems like he hates his job enough to be borderline emo. Emo Boy works at Subway. I thought he might be a manager, but in hindsight, he might have just been a plain ol' Sandwich Artist.

Why do I bring Emo Boy up? In all honesty, I'm not sure. In a very non-emo-ish way, he was unconventionally cute. He liked to run his big mouth and became big fans of my coworker and I, as Subway became our weekly lunchtime destination. My coworker exuded homosexuality and quite frankly, I thought it was great. Although there are few feelings more awkward when a group of straight men can hear your friend checking them out. While I one day wish that this would become a little more of a social norm rather than taboo, I don't think it is today, or even last week at our last visit to this Subway. Emo Boy never cared when my coworker hit on him and was pretty nice to him, even giving us a discount one time. Woo! I'd like to think the discount was for me since I was paying that day but maybe Emo Boy was actually hitting on my coworker.

There is no point to this blog other than I associate my old job with Emo Boy and since I miss my job I guess you could say I kind of miss Emo Boy. Yes, that's right, I have a mild attraction to the Sandwich Artist that perfected my Roasted Chicken Breast on Monterrey Cheddar with provolone, lettuce, tomatoes, and lite mayo. Case in point: I'm really not that cool.