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Not the sandwich I was looking for

Back when I was pursuing an MBA at Cardinal Stritch U, a subscription to the Wall Street Journal was required, an expense I cheerfully paid since the college facilitated a subscription at (dirt-cheap) student rates and I've always had a weakness for the WSJ's editorial page. One of the items that caught my eye was an ad for Roly Poly Sandwich franchises, not because I was looking to go back into the fast food business, but because the name was kinda cute.

Lo and behold, a couple of months later I see a woman walking along through the skyway holding a cup of pop from that same franchise. i asked her where the place was, she told me, and I filed that datum away for future reference. Well, the future arrived today.

I have to say I was somewhat underwhelmed. In contrast to my fond expectation of a sandwich joint a la Jimmy John's, Roly Poly serves up their wide range of hot and cold lunch items inside wheat or white soft tortillas. Yes, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Roly Poly is purveying wraps posing as sandwiches to delude the unwary! Now, as
those of you who know me can attest, I regard the "wrap" as an abomination before the Lord, much like the heathen practice of cooking tomatoes in one's chili or (God save us!) putting ketchup on steak. Tortillas were meant to be served hot, enfolding the divine mixture of meat and chile peppers with such other foods as one might choose to adorn one's burrito with. They were not meant to serve as some sort of Nuevo Wavo substitute for Wonder Bread. Be that as it may, the turkey and pepper jack wrap I had was moderately tasty if a tad pricey at $6.00.

Unfortunately, it was also a bit lacking in carbohydrates. I was stunned to see that my blood sugar at 1715 this afternoon was down to 67, a depth not reached since well before the last sub-100 reading. Fortunately, I only had a modicum of filing to do, so I finished that up, grabbed my stuff, and made a quick pit stop at Bruegger's to inhale a pint of milk and a honey-grain bagel, along with a cinnamon scone. It was probably more than I needed, but that 67 scared me and I did not want to be nodding off into insulin shock along 35W South. That kind of excitement I can definitely live without.

Wednesday yet another sandwich joint is opening - Potbelly's Sandwich Works, in the IDS Crystal Court where the accessory store "Afterthoughts" once purveyed its scrunchies and bangles. Hopefully they serve their sandwiches on real honest-Irving bread instead of perverting decent tortillas to their career of evil; we shall see.

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