Chubby Memento Sandwich Lady

Dear Chubby Memento Sandwich Lady,

You're too sweet for me to ask you this in person, so I am instead deploying it to the interwebs for all the world to gawk at. Besides, you will forget the question before I finish relating it.

I've been ordering the same thing from you for almost three years. At least twice a week, I come to the deli where you cheerily await me. So, conservatively, you have made 300 sandwiches for me. That is a lot of fucking egg salad!

I always get a whole wheat wrap, with egg salad, lettuce, onion, tomatoes, and whatever cheese looks least ripe. Every time. Sometimes you are out of the whole wheat wraps. Then, I get the orange one or the green one. I guess they're supposed to be tomato and spinach. You only mangle the wrap I'd say one out of five times, which is pretty good for $4.50. You're good enough at it that I go somewhere else when you're off and the dude missing his front teeth is manning the station (I mean, he is missing his teeth...not exactly appetizing. Also, he mangles the wrap 5 out of 5 times). You always have a chubby little smile, and you call me "honey" in your nice sandwich lady hispanic accent.

But every time I order, it's as though you have never seen me before. You seriously have no clue what I want. I wonder if you have tattooed all your essential personal information on your no doubt pliant and (as the w4m section would have it) "curvy" torso so you can't forget it. You're a totally blank slate every time I greet you. I understand that you have a lot of customers, but your ignorance of what I might want borders on the pathological. You've made the same thing for me 300 times. The chicks (yeah, plural--BOTH of them) at the overpriced salad place picked up that I like a Caesar with chick peas instead of chicken and light on the dressing after maybe a dozen visits.

If I slapped you, would you be confused about where the welt came from before I am through the checkout line? The only possible explanation for you being unable to recall any of the details of what I eat for lunch with such stunning consistency is that you're bereft of medium term memory. I admit, it is cagey of you to work the sandwich lady angle. Not a job that requires a memory, is it?

In closing, Chubby Memento Sandwich Lady, what I really want to ask you is if your persistent good cheer is a direct result of your inability to remember anything. If ignorance is bliss, is ignorance combined with complete lack of recall ecstasy? I would be saddened if you suddenly started remembering what I eat for lunch, because then you will remember other things about the world, too, and they will make you less bubbly. Please stay oblivious, for your sake and the sake of my lunch.

Avoid ginko biloba!

Love,
Egg Salad LTO with Muenster Cheese on a Whole Wheat Wrap