The shit sandwich is a day where nothing goes right.
Actually that isn’t enough for a shit sandwich. It’s a day when everything that can go wrong does go wrong. And all the things that can go wrong delight in their wrongness at exactly the same time.
You get a deluge of wrongness.
If you’re feeling ill and have slept badly the night before that’s even better because then the shit sandwich becomes a club shit sandwich.
Extra big filling. With mayo. Ooh great. Just for me? How kind.
The club shit sandwich also has vicious peppercorns in it that lodge painfully between your teeth and gums like explosive grit. You carry the taste around with you all day. So much so that everything else you experience on that day also begins to taste like shit. It’s like the shit sandwich is spreading or... even worse... breeding.
And shit sandwich begat shit sandwich and its name was 12th January 2009...
The last thing you want to be doing when chowing down on a shit sandwich is gnashing your teeth but alas the Biblical allusions demand that this is done. So you gnash. And gnash. And it’s shit.
And it’s all yours.
Because people will share your lunch, your politics, your office stapler, your darkest secrets but nobody – nobody at all – will willingly share a shit sandwich with you. If you’re packing a shit sandwich you’re eating alone. It’s got your name all over it. Just your name. Just you.
Yes sirree. Sure looks good but if you don’t mind I’ll just stick with this here ham and lettuce... mm mm!
And you can’t blame them. You can’t blame them at all. Everybody gets a shit sandwich every now and then. It’s the way of the world. When it’s your turn to get a shit sandwich it isn’t a cup that can be passed on to someone else.
It’s bequeathed to you by life itself. You’ve just got to grit your teeth and make your way through it. Neck it down right to the last few flaky crumbs of the crust and hope that tomorrow it finds itself in someone else’s lunch box.
Because a shit sandwich isn’t like lightning. There’s no law that says it can’t strike in the same place twice...
There is after all such a thing as a double-decker shit sandwich...
Pray for me, people. Pray for me.
I’m really not sure I have the stomach for it.