Starving for a Sandwich

Last night, I got onto my email account and lo and behold I have an email. It says, "Charly has invited you to contribute to a blog". I know Charly minimally ... as in, I have seen her twice and gone on a double date with her once, so to say that I was confused is an understatement. I considered writing something yesterday, just for the heck of it; it was my birthday, after all, and I obviously can get away with anything and everything on my birthday--even if it was potentially causing havoc and ruin on the blog of someone who I barely know who, without meaning to, allowed me to contribute to it. My more charitable side decided that was a poor decision, so I didn't. Then I get home today and I bring it up to my wife, thinking she will be just as confused as I am. She wasn't. Turns out she had roped me into being part of this blog then forgot to tell me that I was being roped into it. I will have you know I am coming into this kicking and screaming, or at very least pretending that I am. 

Anyways apparently I am supposed to respond to the stories that my wife tells about us, so you can get both sides of the story. So I shall.

I was at work, and I had no idea what was going on. But that is not the true tragedy of this story. I went into work at 11 in the morning, and I, foolishly, had not taken food to eat while at work. Add in the fact that I had two "midterms" (two weeks before finals) the next day and several person (or personal if you want to read it that way--I personally like both) issues at the time and you can imagine my mood going into work. I had pointed out the aforementioned shirt to my coworker because it is gorgeous and the only really red shirt that we sell there. Then I had pushed through the day like a trooper.

About four in the afternoon, who should come to visit me but my dear wife. She is so very sweet but I am a self proclaimed trooper and, having to live up to that fact, I was busy working, helping out as many customers as I could feasibly help while giving my wife as much attention I could give her, which was very little. Next thing I know, she is being sent to go get us sandwiches. Now remember who has not eaten since that morning; yes, I am talking about poor, starving me. So the guys give my wife money to go down the street and get sandwiches from probably the BEST sandwich shop in Salt Lake (the Gandolfos on main street). She wanders off and I continue troopering on. She comes back, and this is when her story takes place. (Insert wife's story here)

Now back to my story. She had gotten sandwiches for the guys, including a foot-long for her and me, buy I didn't have a lot of time to sit down and actually eat it. The problem is that it was connected to hers and if you read her story you can guess where that sandwich went. That's right, while she was being mischievous and conniving, she took my half of the sandwich and walked RIGHT OUT THE FRONT DOOR. There it is right there. The fact that because my loving beautiful wife wanted to surprise me with something for my birthday, I had to starve....

So it really wasn't that tragic and let's be honest, I look dang good in that shirt, but WHO DOES THAT!?!?! Oh, wait, my wife.