Here is your list of fast food places to eat at in Ruidoso: McDonald's, Sonic, Taco Bell, Schlotzsky's, Mr. Burger (not that fast), Burger Trolley (not that fast, either)... um, yeah. That's about it. Oh, and Subway, which is consistently inconsistent in every aspect of their business practice.
There used to be two Subways here, as well as a Burger King and an Arby's. I can't get flame-broiled goodness here, or the joy of an overly-processed roast beef sandwich doused in fake cheese sauce. I should have moved the second Arby's closed, but I hardly ever go there and didn't know they'd shut their doors forever until a few months after the fact. I can, however, "eat fresh" at Subway and make sure Jared and Jon Lovitz get a paycheck this month. Or so I thought.
Last week I wanted Subway when my mom and I went to Wal-Mart (which I failed to mention also has a Subway in it, but I'm scared to eat at it). So, we drove past the normal Subway and the parking lot was packed. Forget it... we'll just check out the next Subway down the road at Funtrackers, where I went go-carting not too long ago. Nope. It's closed, and Subway executives failed to send me the memo.
Now when I do actually drive the 17 miles to Subway, I can expect to find ridiculously rude employees who are obviously working paycheck to paycheck and crack hit to crack hit, and make it apparent that they hate me for even considering visiting their fine sandwich shop. I can usually assume they have only about three of the normal 15 chip varieties other Subways in real towns have. The same goes for the soda machine. In addition, your friendly Ruidoso Subway will be out of at least half of the breads other Subways have. Normally they have three day old Honey Wheat at all times, so they got that goin' for 'em.
But here's the zinger: Today I made the arduous drive almost all the way to the Downs, pulled into the Subway parking lot, only to find one of the employees standing in the doorway telling something to this other lady who was parked as well. Rather than waste my precious energy and get out of the car, I merely roll down my passenger side window to hear what news this disgruntled sandwich artist had for me... "We're out of bread."
WHAT? As Eddie would say, "Are you SERIOUS?" Why the f*ck are you even open, you dim-witted meth addict? Did you think I came to Subway for the SOUP or the shredded iceberg lettuce salads?? Don't insult me. Just close.
Here is my other question: How does a sandwich shop run out of bread, especially when they make the bread at said shop? You would think that when they notice the bread supply is running low, they'd throw a couple more frozen slabs of dough into the ol' oven, right? Or, hey... we're low on dough - do you think we should order some more? No, don't be foolish... let's go take another hit off the crack pipe.
I hate this town, you guys. Trying to explain the hate would be futile. I can feel my blood pressure rise when I think about going anywhere here. If I make it through the next ten days, it will truly be an amazing feat.
The only thing that would make me happy right now is if Jared himself would come to Ruidoso, fire the crackheads, and then make me a sandwich. For free.