Location: Vending machine at work/Neptune Sandwiches
Date: February 6, 2015
Cost: $2.25, comes with a side order of shame and questionable life choices.
There have been some fairly bizarre and outrageous things done in the name of research and though some of it may not be justifiable, my breakfast sandwich research must be fearless in its sifting and winnowing. These documents will not be classified.
It is with that attitude that I approached my latest subject.
There is a refrigerated vending machine in the break room at my place of employment. It is referred to as "The Wheel of Death" because at one time it actually was one of the rotating machines that dispensed all manner of questionable food items. That machine has been replaced but the name stuck. I never buy anything from it and rarely pay it any attention so when a coworker pointed out that it contained a breakfast sandwich I knew I had to put it on the list.
The sandwich comes from Neptune Sandwiches in Milwaukee which appears to be a vending business without a store front. That's probably for the better. Too bad its not this place in Oklahoma City, which at least has a bad ass looking roof.
|B7 in its natural habitat|
|After 60 seconds in the microwave|
The result: 1 classified document out of 5 classified documents. This was not a good sandwich. The texture was somewhere between spongy and rubbery, and not in a good way. The only flavor was salt with a hint of utility grade pork. I ate half of it and gave the other half to coworker Kyle, who split it into three parts. He couldn't give them away. Six people turned down a taste of the All American breakfast sandwich. Cowards, all of them. I suppose its worth noting that two vegetarians turned down a taste as well. There will be no sifting or winnowing for truth with these people.
Eating this sandwich made me feel like a dirty whore, and not in a good way.