6-inch

Walked to Subway for lunch today with Subway being the closest food place and the weather being windy and threatening with drops of water on our heads. Chris had to hide behind me as the largest object in our lunch bunch nowadays, so that the wind doesn't pick him up and fly him 2 steps back for every step forward. Tracy was gone in a nostalgic memory of Wellington days, while Jared could only think of Subway. Can't help but remember Homer trying to think and all he sees in his mind is a donut.

After about a 10 minute wait in the queue and meaningless conversations about different types of subs each of us will have it's Tracy's turn to order.

- "I'll have a 6-inch BMT. Thanks!" Which is completely different to what she said she will have, but her favorite. The order guy started piling up a tiny piece of bread with ham, when she looks at me. "Does that look like a 6 inch to you?"

This is one of those questions where you shouldn't ever hesitate: "Does my butt look big in this?", "Do you think I gained some weight?" and I enthusiastically respond: "No!". So Tracy turns back to the order guy: "This is a very small 6-inch" by pointing her finger at it. All things being equal…

He patiently unsticks the ham, salami and other things he so neatly packed on that small 6-inch, gets another piece of bread and cuts off about 60% of it just for Trace before her short paws reach out and tear the 6-inch apart.

"That's much better!" I say just as enthusiastically to the guy, when I get a sharp nudge from Chris to stop annoying the guy. Thank goodness they make you a sub right in front of you, so you know no extra spit-spice goes in it. Right Trace?

After we get our subs we are back on our way towards the building with the wind in our backs now. Holding Chris by his jacket, so he doesn't fly off we try to listen in to what Tracy and Jared are talking about but no luck.

Jared is gesticulating wildly, showing someone slapping his face and then describing something that involves a large stomach?

"What do you think they are talking about?" I ask Chris.
"I think he got slapped on the weekend" replies the flying stick.
"What was that gesture about a big stomach?" I cautiously ask while rubbing my own sack of potatoes that seems to be growing every hour now.
"Maybe his stomach got bigger"
"After he got slapped?"
"Possibly"

Tracy and Jared look at each other, rolling their eyes as far back as possible: "Can you give us the stuff you are on?"

Only later during lunch when we were discussing how hard it is to get your loved pets into this country and how donkeys are really cool animals to keep and how you should never trust movers packing your stuff and how early one needs to get up to make it to work from the west, Jared ventured off topic as usual and described how a big wave splashed over him while he was walking in Mission Bay. It's a really important incident: wave splashing over. More important than say movers stealing a pack of really expensive kitchen knives or packing a grill from the oven, just cos it was there.

At least Chris and I finally understood who slapped him. We are yet to find out why his stomach got bigger though.