My First Blog

I am not sure how I got here. I was about to post something on my Twitter account and was engraged when I reached my 140 characters so quickly and next thing I know, I have a blog. And I don’t remember what I wanted to post so badly to Twitter. So now I am not sure I have anything to say.

Who am I kidding..I always have something to say. I have never had a blog before. I’m thinking I’ll enjoy it. I have a lot to say and don’t care if people listen or not. I also don’t like listening in return to other people so this is an excellent format. One way conversation.

So, today I went to Subway for lunch. I made the mistake of going to the subway on Vermont though, which is right in between a socially acceptable area and the ghetto. In LA that means you will have a solid mix of the following: Asian families with 5 screaming children who all want to go to McDonalds instead, a group of 13-16 year old Mexican kids who think they are in a gang which only seems to hang out outside of fast food establishments smoking their parents’ USA Gold menthols, and overly aggressive homeless people who don’t bother with the whole bum on the curb routine, they go right in and ask for money from you while you are ordering your Spicy Italian sub. This particular visit to Subway I was also graced by the stereotypical enormous man who is completely counterproductive in coming to Subway in the first place. Most people go to Subway because they want a healthier, less greasy option for fast food. He apparently is not one of those people. I don’t know what type of subs he got (yes, plural…he got two foot longs for himself) because I could not see anything underneath the 3 pounds of condiments he had them put on each one. “Lotsa mayo, lotsa mustard, lots and lotsa southwest, some ranch, wait, yea more ranch and lotsa lotsa sweet onion sauce.” Were his exact words. And let’s not forget his enraged last statement, “You don’t have tha barbeque sauce that I wants on them!” When he sat down to eat them it was a moment similar to watching a car crash. You know if you keep watching it could be pretty gruesome but your brain is not intelligent enough to look away. My brain was no exception.

I still can’t look at the condiment shelf in my fridge.

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Amy Maestri

Writer / actress / producer.

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