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Sandwiches of Ergo Depot - Vol. 2

Take a moment and close your eyes. Or, keep them open so you can keep reading, but, take a moment, and remember the best sandwich you’ve ever had. Don’t think too hard. You know which one. It’s, the one. “So?!” you say. “It’s just a sandwich!” Then, how come it changed your life? You are a different person because of that sandwich. Don’t let it pass you by. Reach out and grab it. Don’t be afraid to let it define you.

Here at ‘Sandwiches of Ergo Depot,’ this is our journey. We hope you’ll join us for a simple Q&A about the sandwiches that changed our lives. (Just in case you missed it, Vol. 1 is worth the read, too.) Join us, on a journey of discovery about ourselves, about our world, about what it be alive!


Nate B: “First, you, yourself: What is your name? Who are you?”

Lauren B: “Lauren B: Human Female.”


NB: “What do you do at Ergo Depot? How long have you been employed here?”

LB: “Recently I’ve been Operations Coordinator, previously Warranty Mistress - Full-Time Doer of things. I’ve worked here for 15 months.”


NB: “Do you sit or stand or do a little bit of both with your Jarvis?”

LB: “I generally split my sitting and standing based on energy level. If I’m standing, though, I’m usually desk dancing.”


NB: “Desk dancing is allowed, especially if the tunes are correct.”

LB: *blank stare*


NB: “The sandwich, itself: if you could choose one memorable sandwich you’ve eaten here at Ergo Depot, what would it be? Where was it purchased from?”

LB: “Breakfast sandwiches are my jazz, and my FAVORITE is from Lotus and Bean, which is across the Morrison Bridge. Eggs and bagels and cheese and stuff. Who could possibly not love a breakfast sandwich?”**




NB: “Right. Sounds like you’re a breakfast lady?”

LB: “Yes.”


NB: “Breakfast is the most important of the eight daily meals.”

LB: “Breakfast, six of the eight meals of the day. I generally prefer them after breakfast time. Or, late breakfast time. ALSO, I really appreciate if they have pesto. Lotus and Bean does not have pesto, and I plan to talk to their supervisors about this.”


NB: “You should let them know!

“So, if a good sandwich is like a memorable event, where were you, in life, when you first encountered the Lotus and Bean?”

LB: “I believe I was about 10. It was early May and the newly green trees were rustling in the late afternoon air. Warm breeze, though. Cold breeze sucks. I had broken my last piece of blue sidewalk chalk and was super ticked because all I had left was pink and pink is the dumbest and then - I heard it…for the first time in the year. IT WAS THE ICE CREAM MAN AND I JUST GOT ALLOWANCE! CHOCO TACOS FOR EVERYBODY!

“The joy. It’s palpable.”


NB: “What was the political climate?”

LB: “The political climate? Could have been better. I didn’t get elected. Again.”


NB: “Was it impressive enough that you’d recall what you were wearing? If not, we may be discussing the wrong sandwich.”

LB: “A gorilla suit. Kids’ size 8.”


NB: “Ok, we are discussing the right sandwich.

“Also, I wouldn’t take elections personally. They’re an awful process and ‘winning’ is not a reflection on actual merit. Unlike a sandwich. You can’t fool an entire nation into thinking their rotten sandwich is a good sandwich if it’s actually rotten. The proof, they say, is in the sandwich.”

LB: “The ‘prosciutto is in the sandwich,’ Nate. It’s an easy mistake.

“I digress."




NB: “Yes, it is often misquoted as ‘the proof is in the pudding.’ But that is stupid. Who looks for proof in pudding? Maybe someone who’s never had a good sandwich. Moving on.

“Did you decorate the sandwich with condiments? If so, what did you use? Why did you use them? Was it because you (like me) are particularly obsessed with condiments? Or, the sandwich was actually prepared with a deficit of appropriate condiments?”

LB: “I hesitate to demean the sandwich by saying that it was “deficit”…but yea. It was.

I hot sauced that buddy. At the time, I felt slight malice due to the emotionally and physically palpable lack of capsaicin, and it did somewhat taint my initial opinion of L&B. I found out, however, that I’m just a massive dummy and hot sauce is totally a choice on the build-a-sammy menu and I could have just asked for it.

“I think I was overwhelmed, maybe? I’m not sure how I could have allowed such a massive oversight, but I’m ashamed to say it did happened. Once.”




NB: “That hot sauce though, an ideal sandwich can be served without hot sauce and still be an ideal sandwich.”

LB: “Wait, what?”


NB: “Let me explai-”

LB: “What kind of world do you live in?!”


NB: “You should know, I am a man of many hot sauces. But if it’s an add-on, I usually just pass, with the intention of adding the correct hot sauce to each bite.

“That way, I have total control.

LB: “So you’re saying you’re a monster.”


NB: “I am not a monster.”

LB: “Sandwich Dictator?”

NB: “And yes, I know, having to tell someone you’re not a monster probably means you’re a monster. But, a sandwich dictator, you won’t see me losing sleep over that.”

LB: “If I found a sandwich monster under my bed it would be so chill.”


NB: “If a little dusty. But, what’s a little dust on a midnight nibble?

“Was your sandwich a tidy sandwich? Or, was it embarrassing to eat?"

LB: “The sandwich was beautiful.

I was sloppy.

Am sloppy.”


NB: “But not because of the sandwich?”

LB: “More of an in-general/invasive personal characteristic kind of thing.”


NB: “Was there anything that could have made your sandwich better? If no, great! If yes, do you suspect those who prepared the sandwich withheld this ingredient on purpose as a statement on how life is a hopeless black abyss of disappointments and no humor and there’s no use in offering a sandwich that doesn’t reflect this fact?”

LB: “Several things could have made my sandwich better:

    1. Avocado
    2. Gold Doubloons
    3. Pesto

“There’s more. I’m thinking.

  1. Sea Salt
  2. Arugula
  3. Hugs
  4. A Puppy.”


NB: “A puppy sandwich?”

LB: “As companionship. Not as puppy meat. You’re disgusting.

“I feel like all of these things were withheld as a means of manipulation. The sandwich, you see, was beautiful and wonderful and it cradled me as it changed my life. That said, it could have been more, and better.

“And do I feel a pull? Do I yearn to go back to see if the perfection will ever be reached? Of course I do.

“And I do.

“And I will.



NB: “Even if they forgot the puppy?"

LB: “As I said, I’ve reordered it, and I will likely continue to do so. Will I also continue to look for a better offer? For a sandwich more pure and beautiful - WITH avocado and a puppy? Of course I will. Cause I deserve it.”


NB: “You deserve it!”

LB: “I’m a winner!”




NB: “If your sandwich had a season, what was your sandwich’s season? (As a guide, use the following as a reference: Summer = lighthearted and noncommittal, like a nightmare girl/boyfriend who keeps referring to you as their ‘good friend.’ Autumn = The best season. Hands down. Pure magic. 110%. Classy yet humble. Strong and capable, yet, sensitive and forgiving. Winter = a bleak and empty void, a vacuum of emotion or opinion, even on the most divisive issues that face our children today. Spring = Hopeful yet soggy, stacked with young greens. Impossibly idealistic and thus, constantly disappointing.

“Actually, I’m going to answer for you. It’s Autumn right?

“Did I guess right?"

LB: “I mean...yea?

“You guessed right. But, I think it’s even more specific than that. I think, it was right about October 23, 2:00pm. In the warmth and lasting light of a dimming afternoon.

“With Ryan Gosling. (Who you can’t help but forgive for forgetting the avocado.)"


“NB: “Not with a face like that: 'Hey girl, sorry I forgot the avo. Maybe you’d like a foot massage instead?'”

LB: “And then freaking delivers on the foot massage?!? He’s so good.”

NB: “That’s why he’s Ryan Gosling and not Gilbert Gottfried.”

LB: “Who’s Gilbert Gottfried?”




NB: “This guy.”

LB: “Ugh! Either way, you don’t let that creepy little rodent near your toes OR your sandwich.”


NB: “This man is not your sandwich.”

LB: “Uggghhh. You know, you probably shouldn’t let Wallace Shawn near your sandwich either."


NB: “Wow! That’s why my motto is, ‘Seriously you guys, no matter what, I will never let Gilbert Gottfried or Wallace Shawn near my sandwich or my feet.’ I’m paraphrasing but, you get the point."

LB: “Do they make that in a bumper sticker?”




NB: “They do!”

LB: “I want.”


NB: “You like to work out yes?”

LB: “No.

“I do not like to work out.

“I do like to eat and drink whatever I want, though.

“So I work out.”


NB: “Noted. If the sandwich was a person at the gym, what would it be? Please support your answer in under 140 characters.”

LB: “My sandwich would be Fabio. Bagels are blondish and so is egg and cheese, and that sandwich is MASSIVE with piercing blue eyes.”


NB: “Suggested pairings for your massive sandwich, besides biceps that can rip a Chevrolet in half?”

LB: “Merlot and opulence. Like Elizabeth Taylor always said, “I always take down one egg sandwich before leaving the house." That was Lizzy, right?”

NB: “If memory serves. Young Lizzy, though. Disney Lizzy. Circa ‘National Velvet.’”


NB: “If your sandwich was a private in a movie about the Vietnam war, in what order would it be killed? Please support your answer. If this question makes you uncomfortable, here is an alternative question: Your sandwich is in John Hughes’ ’The Breakfast Club’ which student would your sandwich be? Again, please support your answer.”

LB: “My sandwich is in a war movie based loosely on the plot of The Breakfast Club. The Breakfast Club Sandwich, obviously. We’ve added bacon to support the plot line.

“My sandwich plays a character that’s an almost perfect amalgam of Emilio Estevez and Ally Sheedy. We’ll call her Gretta. Anyway…it dies during the opening credits. In a really unheroic way, actually. Kind of a turncoat - and there’s so much blood (read: hot sauce).”


NB: “When you eat sandwiches, do you prefer to sit, stand or combine both sitting and standing to get the full sensual experience from both your sandwich and your Jarvis desk?”

LB: “I’m super accommodating to Multi-Position Based Sandwich Eating (MPBSE). I feel that, in order to garner respect from my sandwich, I owe it the opportunity to display its myriad flavors while I cycle through the spectrum of positions my body allows.

“I really only have one must - and that’s a plate. Cause like I said before: I’m super sloppy. Like, really - I’m just not good at humaning without getting food all over my person.

“Some really good sandwiches though, if they’re lucky, get to dance at my desk with me.”

NB: “A sandwich should be so lucky. Before it is eaten, of course.”


**Note: Bashar al-Assad, that’s who.


In the words of the inimitable Bashar al-Assad, “I do not like breakfast sandwiches. I do not like them, Bashar I am."
-Nate B.