Yes, I Cut in Front of You...

I must be a really demented person to get some kind of sick joy out of cutting people (legitimately) in line.

Take today for lunch. I am trying to make a lifestyle change (we don't call it a diet in these parts...) but I am also sick for the umpteenth day in a row and had no interest in eating either a frozen lean cuisine or the barley and sausage gruel I brought from home for the 3rd day in a row. What I wanted was a yummy, tasty, hot Philly cheesteak and fresh cut fries fried in trans-fat free peanut oil.

And I know just the place to get it, 4 minutes away by car. Mmmmm......except...they don't publish their nutritional numbers online. My SparkPeople has a problem with this. Not to mention the fact that looking at the amount of sodium in fast food usually curbs the craving just enough for me to resign myself with settling down with the frozen dinner and a People mag.

However, I noticed a nice little kid's meal at the bottom of the menu: "mini" sandwich, smaller than a small fries. PERFECT! I called in my order for a mini grilled artichoke and provolone sandwich with no mayo, add mushrooms, tomatoes, banana peppers, and spicy mustard. I figure that cut about 627 calories by not getting a steak, right? My answer: 10 minutes.

Yum. I walk in 10 minutes later to a line out the door. All the soccer moms with their gaggle of kids out of school for some reason give me the mean eye as I waltz past them. I know they are whispering "is she really cutting us in line?" to each other, but none of them have the balls to say it to my face. Second step, bypassing the herd of healthcare workers with their "free sub" coupons that are just as obese as me and definitely NOT ordering kid size anything to park my behind under the "pick-up orders pay here" sign.

I can feel the healthcare ladies closing ranks behind me, trying to inch closer like they are definitely NOT letting me anywhere near that register before they get their sandwiches. Meanwhile I can see my tiny sub on the back counter, ready to go. So I kindly wait for a break, inform one of the only two people working this busy lunch rush that I'm there for my pick-up order, pay before ANY of those chicks, and walk out happy.

Sorry, ladies, you just got smoked. Next time, call ahead.