Based on a true story. The names and sandwiches have been changed to protect the innocent.
An assistant to a customer calls his local favorite sandwich shop. Rufus the Gourmet Sandwich Guy answers the phone and the assistant proceeds to place the order.
Hey Rufus, Bob’s assistant here, he’s got a simple sandwich he’d like you to make.
What kind of sandwich would he like?
Oh, anything you make would be fine. Just make it tasty.
What kind of meat?
I dunno, whatever you choose is fine.
It would really help if I knew what he wants. Turkey, pastrami, ham, roast beef, pork, chicken, salami. Do you know what kind of bread?
Whatever you do will be okay. Just put the meat in the middle. The assistant sounds mildly annoyed.
So Rufus takes a guess based on Bob’s previous orders and puts together a white bread and turkey sandwich with a red pepper mayo and sends it out for delivery via his employee.
A few minutes later the phone rings. This is not what I expected, the assistant says. I thought it would be darker.
Darker? Asks Rufus. Okay, sure, I can do that. Just tell me, what do you mean by darker?
An unexpected burst of anger comes from the phone. Darker! You know. Darker. He likes his darker. Just make it darker, okay?
And, so, not wanting to further offend anyone, Rufus proceeds to make a pumpernickel and roast beef sandwich, when the phone rings with Bob’s assistant on the other end.
You know what, Rufus? Throw in a weasel, would ya? I know that’s what Bob would want.
Rufus gets a short, staccato temper. Yeah, a weasel! Rufus is now thinking this guy is totally insane, but trying not to offend his regular client, he sends his employee out to the local pet shop and buys a weasel in a cage.
Both items go out. A few moments pass before the phone rings yet again. This is too dark, he won’t like it. And make it warmer.
What do you mean warmer, sir? Rufus asks.
You know what I mean, make it less dark and warmer, so it’s not so light. There’s no mention of the poor weasel.
Rufus, feeling totally frustrated and confused with no idea of what to do, goes back to the original sandwich of turkey and red pepper mayo, makes it with toasted white bread instead of plain white bread and sends it back over with his now exhausted employee who is on the verge of quitting.
The phone rings yet again. This time it’s Bob. Great sandwich, Rufus, but we can’t pay this bill, it’s way to expensive; I didn’t order three sandwiches and a fucking weasel.
Ah, the way things are done in our business.