• The Incredible Tale of Bald Barry and the Salty Sub •

"And ninety five cents is your change" said the cashier as she passed the two quarters, four dimes, and a nickel into Bald Barry's anxiously outstretched hand. Barry slyly pulled his coin purse out of his back pocket and after dropping the coins in looked into the cashier's big blue eyes and said, "Thank you."

The waitress walked with the sort of walk you'd expect to see on a snake, only the waitress look a bit more dangerous. The waitress looked down at Barry from where she stood at the end of the table. Barry looked right back at her, with thoughts only a mother could love dancing in his head. His eyes moved from the waitress to the sub, and he liked what he saw. A lot. That sub looked delicious.

"Here is your sub, sir." Whispered the waitress as her long arm reached over the table and placed the sandwich in front of Barry. "I hope you enjoy your meal." she said as she turned away and walked back into the kitchen to retrieve the next tables order. Barry picked up the sub and turned it over in his hands. Very nice. He set the sandwich back on the table and began uncovering the sandwich from the skimpy piece of greasy paper which covered it. The sandwich sat in the pile of grease in the middle of the opened paper and stared up at Barry, as if it were saying, "Eat me!”

Barry picked up the sandwich and stuck his long tongue out of his mouth until it touched the rich silky surface of the ham in the sub. He put his mouth over the sandwich and took a big bite. He pulled his face out from the allure of the sub and chewed. He swallowed. The piece of sandwich slid down his throat, along a long path into Barry's stomach. Barry burped.

"That is one salty sub!" Grunted Barry as the taste of the salt finally hit him like a ton of bricks. The salt was just too much for Barry. He couldn't stand it much longer. He started gasping for breath. His eyes started to water, and Barry took a long sip of his 7-up. His taste buds were calmer now, so Barry slid across the booth and stood up. He walked to the front counter.

There was a different cashier there this time. She had long, black, flowing hair tied up in a hair net. She had big voluptuous lips a nose so big she looked like a penguin. But Barry liked her all the same. "I'd like to make a complaint." Said Barry to the beauty behind the counter.

"Certainly." Said the woman. The words seemed to swim through the air from her mouth to Barry's ear. It tickled his ear drum. "What seems to be the problem?" She looked like she was interested, but Barry knew her type. It was all just an act to reel the hearts of weak men into their lair, where they would be trapped forever.

"My sub is too salty." Replied Barry. He eyed the lady like a hawk, waiting for her to make one false move. But this dame was good. Real good. She looked concerned for Barry. But Barry wasn't convinced.

"I'm sorry, would you like a different sub?" offered the cashier. Ha! So that was her game, eh? Try to make it seem like you're trying to help, eh? Well, Barry was experienced with most fast food restaurant cashiers. He was sure he could handle this one too. She thought she could trick him. Well, two can play at that game, thought Barry.

"Yes." Said Barry slyly, like a fox. "Make me a new ham sub." He stared at the cashier, if she was a cashier at all, and tried to see her thoughts. Bah, she must have been using some sort of far eastern sorcery! Barry could not see what she was doing. But Barry would not give up that easy. The cashier threw the sub into the garbage, and walked into the kitchen to get Barry a new sub. She returned with an apologetic look on her face and no sub in her hands.

"I'm sorry," said the cashier. "We appear to be out of ham." So that was her style! Well, Barry knew what to do with a dame like her. The only thing he could do. He looked at the cashier and said, "I'd like a roast beef sub with mozzarella cheese." Yes, he threw a new order at the dame, knowing that was certainly was she was least expecting. But she didn't even seem phased.

"Cheese costs ten cents extra.” Said the lady. She was a pushy dame, but Barry liked his cheese, even if it did cost him a dime. He handed the lady a dime, and she put it into the cash register.

"The sandwich will be brought to your table shortly." Said the lady. Barry was shocked. She must have been trained by one of the best. Or else perhaps he was losing his touch... But Barry refused to believe that he, a man who had been eating fast food for over twenty years, could possibly be outsmarted be a girl who couldn't have been working there more than a month. No, he was still the best.

The waitress brought out the roast beef sub just like she had the last time, only this time she knew who she was dealing with. Perhaps she would treat him with a bit more respect for Barry, Ace Fast Food Go-er. She set the sub down in front of Barry.

"If there is any trouble, you can just tell the cashier again."Said the snake waitress. Tell the cashier again! Ha! He wouldn't talk to that cashier again from across the room. Barry knew her sort. After the first complaint comes the messing with your food. Barry unwrapped the sub and lifted off the top part of bread. He could see nothing wrong with it, so that must mean they had an expert at the pranks. Perhaps they dropped the roast beef in the toilet, or maybe they dropped it on the floor. But no matter what they did, Barry knew he couldn't trust those fiends in the back. He stood up and walked to the garbage can. He dropped the sandwich and listened to hear it splat on the bottom of the garbage can.

As Barry reached the exit, he turned around coyly and shouted to the staff of this "fine dining establishment", "Hey! I am bald Barry! And you can drop all the meat you want into the toilet, but you'll never out smart the Ace Fast Food Go-er! Ha! What do you think of that?” Barry turned his back on that restaurant, and as he walked out the door he thought to himself, "Man, I really should've taken a toity break before I left.” But it was too late for Barry. He stepped into his '74 VW and drove home with a cloud of exhaust trailing behind him. Yes, Barry escaped that little town of despair, and he drove westward into the sunset. Barry would not stop until he ran out of gas. Because that is just the kind of guy that he is.