I’m a Jimmy John’s Delivery Boy! I’m a Jimmy John’s Delivery Boy!
By Meredith Maltby
September 9, 2015
McSweeney’s
You ordered, and boom, now I gotta go — I’m off on my bike and I’m fast as lightning. This is how it works! I’m prepared to deliver your sandwich. I am losing feeling in my groin. I am literally losing the ability to have children as my crotch is pressed tighter and tighter to this hard icepick of a bike seat. My sneakers are on! They are non-slip and my practiced legs are pumping with an experienced motion perfected over time. I pretend I am a Zamboni as I conquer distances with ultimate speed.
I’m the Jimmy John’s Delivery Boy! I am unable to skirt an abandoned gallon of Minute Maid juice someone left out by their garbage can. I love your sandwich so much. I can’t wait to deliver the sandwich to you that I love so much and I love you, too, so much, only if you love me back.
No really! I’m a delivery boy and I deliver your sandwich and that’s my job! It’s what I do! Ha, alright. I am covered in Minute Maid from head to toe and I am already beginning to mourn the loss of my unborn sons, John and Midge. I catch a whir of a cat pawing a tree in my periphery. Another trash can, a lady walking on the sidewalk in a sweat suit — ha, the world is amazing! It’s funny that no one uses their mailboxes anymore. They’re a slow system, and hey, I know a thing or two about speed and convenience.
I’m the Jimmy John’s Delivery Boy and there is a large German shepherd bounding after my bicycle! I take this moment as an opportunity to appreciate the sandwich that I am bringing to you with speed and convenience.
My long hair is whipping into my eyes but I am pumping my legs with a practiced skill. There’s another dog on the next block. The dog days of summer! A golden retriever, legs upright in the middle of the street! Alright! There’s Minute Maid and blood all over my sneakers. There’s wind literally pummeling the Minute Maid onto my face. I’m prepared to deliver your sandwich. You asked this of me and I’m bringing it to you and the world is amazing and full of dogs, all the time.
I’m the Jimmy John’s Delivery Boy! I took a tumble on 49th when a Cadillac Eldorado literally lambasted me in the face as it tried to avoid the two dogs!
The shepherd and the retriever with the legs up are tightly pressed against the Eldorado bleeding out their tiny dog souls. The retriever is totally taxidermic. My sneakers are off! I’m on the ground with all the Minute Maid. The cat is pawing my brain and I have your sandwich. It loves me back. The sandwich is only a little squished and it is safe in my arms, cradled against my stomach. The lining of my stomach loves the sandwich back, but I would never eat the sandwich. The sandwich is for you!
You are laying on your back with your legs upright in the air and you are waiting for me to bring you the sandwich. You asked for it! I think about how you are a loyal customer and you might love me back and I love you so much. I think about how Midge would have possessed many skills that would have been well suited for retail and John would have owned a Jimmy John’s restaurant. I see your tomato warbling its way to the other side of the street from what I can tell sideways on the ground and it may have waved back to signify its distance from the sandwich. I’m off my bike and I’m on the ground. This is how it works! No really! You’ll get a refund. I’ll bring you another sandwich on my bike. I’ll bike over there to your exact address. Alright! I’m shaking my tail, I’m a delivery dog, I’m the Jimmy John’s Delivery Boy! I’m loyally bringing your pup to the door. I think I’m bringing you either a German Shepherd or a Golden Doodle and I may have warbled up your order. I am covered in the mayonnaise your Golden Doodle spilled against my stomach. I am drenched in Minute Maid and it is seeping out of my brain onto the pavement in warm red strings.
I’m the Jimmy John’s Delivery Boy! You asked for it!
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