Met the Wife for lunch at Subway today. Still there as I write this, by the way.
She likes the roast beef sandwiches. Orders them most of the time. Me, I prefer the Subway Melt or the Italian BMT.
But, today, I decided to go crazy and and order a chicken bacon ranch sandwich. I've had them before. And they're good. McDonald's also has a similar sandwich. I like it, too. But we weren't at McDonald's. We were at Subway. Their Internet connection works. Plus I like the staff.
One thing that the Wife and I do is carry hand sanitizer. I carry Purell. She carries Avon.
Well, I got the sandwiches while she found a table (which is sometimes a premium at the Subway on Broadway in Columbus). And, when I got to the table with all the food, chips, apple parts, and sandwiches, I also broke out my Purell.
Only, she didn't want that. She wanted her Avon hand stuff. And asked me if I wanted some of that.
"Sure," I said, not realizing the full impact of that statement.
Now, the Purell must be rubbed in, of course, but can be rubbed in fairly easily.
Not so with the Avon.
This Avon stuff seems to stick around. I rubbed my hands together for what seemed like forever. The stuff was gone, and I was simply rubbing off skin. But it still felt like the Avon hand sanitizer was on my hands. And smelled like it, too.
I used a napkin to try to get the stuff off, but to no avail.
I ate my chicken bacon ranch sandwich. And my hands smelled like gardenias. And smell impacts taste, in case you didn't know.
So, I ended up eating a chicken bacon gardenia sandwich.
Yeah, I should have just gone and washed it off, but I didn't. But I will next time.
Which is sad. The fact that there will be a next time.
I should have learned better. But I doubt it.