Why I don’t hit the publish button

And other reasons I liked the seafood sandwich at Subway

A desire or self indulged need arises to give an opinion on something super important that I just heard about. With much gusto I start typing up a draft in Medium. Apparently the next step involves continuing to write in this empty space below.

Foiled again.

Typically this is about the time where ambition fades and the realization that my (all) opinion(s) typically should not be added to the black hole of internet opinion. Many drafts lie in wait for that annual special day when I remember to log back into medium and delete all my drafts.

This is why I don’t hit the publish button.

Disclaimer: Apparently I hit the publish button. It may have been due to this gif representing my post somehow, that only you can determine, and give your opinion about in a draft.
The Seafood Sandwich at Subway consisted of imitation crab, mixed with 334 lbs. of mayo, placed on an 11 inch footlong sub. In reality it was not intended for people to actually eat when first introduced. The theory behind the sandwich was to offer a sandwich so repulsive that it would increase the sales of the other sandwiches. Subway’s new Fresh Marketing Slogan was in full force, and somehow they needed it to actually make sense. Since the other sandwiches consist of fresh meat shipped from a warehouse in the midwest, preserved with preservable things, it was determined this fresh model needed to be highlighted somehow by placing the fresh meat next to an ugly cousin. Fattie McCrabby. This however backfired when consumers realized the ugly cousin was covered in mayo. When you put mayo on anything it actually tastes really good for some reason. Subway’s fat cousin become the popular girl.

Unfortunately right after the turn of the century, Fattie McCrabby was sold at auction. She commanded a hefty price per pound.
The Subway Seafood Sandwich has been discontinued in most Subways across America. It was registered as an official national loss.
Show your support

Clapping shows how much you appreciated Edwin Tofslie’s story.