The Flatbread Sandwich Frontier

In honor of National Sandwich Day, 2011.

I don’t support the flat tax, but, like a lot of people nowadays, I want my sandwiches flat. Crispy and melty, pressed real thin. The flatter, the better, I say. For lunch today, I went to my local deli and ordered a turkey and Swiss. “Make it flat. Real flat,” I said. The guy behind the counter said, “We don’t do that. We just have regular sandwiches.” I said, “What?! Forget it. I’ve had it with your thick sandwiches!” I left and went to a place that sells paninis.

While ordering, I said, “Make mine extra flat, please…squash it.” The panini guy said, “How flat do you want it?” “How flat can you make it?” I asked. “Pretty flat,” he said, “we have a press.” He was up for a challenge. “OK,” I said, “can you make mine a millimeter thick?” Not flinching, he says, “I can try.” I say, “Actually, I’d like it four molecules thick—one molecule of meat, one molecule of cheese, and one molecule of bread on either side. Oh, and a molecule of mustard. So five. Make it so flat I can’t taste it!” The guy goes, “Let me ask my manger.”

I didn't get what I wanted, but that’s the way it is when you’re ahead of the sandwich curve. Some day they’ll have a sandwich so flat, it’ll have a negative mass. An anti-matter sandwich. It will eat you.