Sandwiches

Sometimes I get into silly moods. Now I know that's hard to believe, but you'll just have to humor me. Yesterday I had a hysterical exchange of emails with my friend Lia about sandwiches, and I just had to share it. It was silly from the start, because i was writing an email to her and threw in a quick comment about my having just eaten the best sandwich ever. And it just evolved from there.

Me:
Man, I just had the most delicious deli turkey sandwich ever. It was so good I almost wept openly. Okay, it wasn't that extreme, but it was a good sandwich. Ever had a sandwich that good before?

Lia:
Nope, but I've had a half-sour pickle that came pretty damn close. Just out of curiosity, what makes a deli sandwich good enough to make one weep?

Me:Oh, oh, there are many things involving all five senses that make a deli turkey
sandwich good enough to weep.

#1- Sound
It is wrapped in perfect deli butcher block paper. It has "TURKEY" written roughly on it with black marker as the Gods at the delicatessen named their masterpiece. The sound the paper makes as you rip it open is perfect in every way.

#2- Sight
The sight of the most perfect looking sandwich. It must be packed full of good ingredients. For me in this case, it was perfectly sliced deli turkey, with provolone cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, and mayo, all on the most perfect plain ol' white bread. The mere sight of said perfect sandwich must make you shake with anticipation, knowing it will taste just as good as it looks.

#3- Touch
When you grab the big honkin' sandwich, it feels right. It's firm and so chock full of yummy goodness, pieces of it fall out. It's too much for its own self to contain. Yes, this sandwich cannot even handle itself.

#4- Smell
It smells like the most heavenly sandwich ever as you go to bite into it. It's like a party for your sense of smell, and everyone's invited.

#5- Taste
When you eat it, it reminds you of everything breath-takingly beautiful you've ever seen. Like the Grand Canyon or a sunset. It's so good you want to both eat it all and also leave some behind so there's always some left to keep eating. But then you can hardly keep yourself from eating your own hands while holding it becauseyou just can't stop eating.

If the sandwich meets all those points, then you will weep. Before, during, and after you're done. For the rest of the day, you will think about it. You'll glance longingly at the remains of the butcher block paper in the waste basket next to your desk. God will be smiling as well, knowing a piece of heaven has graced his creation.

Yup, I think that about covers it.

Does that make sense?
Me

ps - My boss added this important fact: With the remaining crumbs on your desk,
you'll spell out "Thank You, Lord" and then eat them.

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Lia later pointed out that I had totally forgotten the sixth sense. She said, 'Isn't it also important for this perfect sandwich to be able to telepathically communicate with you as well?"

Yes it is.

To add to that fun, I decided to interrupt my wife's day at the office by calling her with my question of the day. She picked up the phone and I just said, "Honey, have you ever had a sandwich that was so good you wept?"

What was funny was that she's in a very serious office (unlike mine) and could not laugh out loud. Hearing her trying to stifle a laugh while pretending to have a serious business call was very funny.

My boss also called her husband on his cell and asked him the same question. He was in a meeting and she said it was hilarious to hear him trying to not laugh while in the meeting.

So, how about it -- have you ever had a sandwich so good you openly wept?