Congratulations Signature Sandwich Lover!

Working in an office is terrible.  Just terrible!  Look at how many people on this website have worked in offices and done absurd things to break the terrible pattern of their lives.  Just look at them!  Heck, we work in an office here, and twice a month we get shit wrecked and throw an office-wide key party to keep from losing our god damn minds.

You've got a more wholesome approach to keeping your sanity.  Once a week you walk into a new sandwich shop and order their signature sandwich.  If they don't have one, you ask the young person making the sandwiches to fix you up with whatever they usually have.  This makes lunch a sort of mini-vacation for you, but it also means that, after a decade of wandering around Chicago, you've almost run out of sandwiches shops to explore.

Today you're going to enter your last sandwich shop, and it's going to get grim fast.  Today you're going to enter a building simply labeled "Charlie's Deli," and you're going to order "whatever their signature sandwich is."

When the young person, pale with socked in red rimmed eyes, delivers your sandwich to you, not in a paper wrapper, but in a banana leaf, you'll realize something is wrong.  When you unwrap the banana leaf and reveal a massive apportionment of cocaine, you'll realize just what that something is.

"I think I came to the wrong sandwich shop," you'll say to the young man behind the desk.

"I'd better get my manager," he'll respond, leaving you there with two of his massive co-workers pointing pistols at you.  When he returns with his "manager," he'll be bringing along a middle aged man in a suit with a bulging coat and a rapidly thinning head of hair.

"You came to the wrong place my friend," this man will announce.

"I think so," you'll respond.  "I don't think I can afford this."

The man in the suit will shake his head, draw a pistol from his coat and fire a round into one of your knees.  After you've collapsed to the floor and finished whimpering, for the most part, he'll roll his eyes and tell you: "That's not my problem."

Come day's end, after a lengthy discussion of what student loan debt is and why you don't have the liquidity to pay a massive amount of money for very special cocaine that you actually asked for accidentally, you'll be on a ship headed to the Baltic coast, where you'll begin your new life as a sex slave.  Hold on for the next few years, it's going to be a lot like Taken, but without the Liam Neeson bits.

Congratulations Signature Sandwich Lover!