The Golden Coke Bottle

Anyway, I worked for a sub shop company for 6 years of my life. I was aged 16-22. I got fired twice because I was a punk kid who knew everything and I used to jump in the trash, but they loved me so always rehired me. In spite of my transgressions, I was a hard worker. No matter what I was doing, whether it was playing an instrument, running a race, sweeping up trash, or making a sub…I wanted to do it right and excel. (Oddly, this initiative never translated to desiring a 4.0 student ranking in college. That’s another analysis to look forward to) But making a sub! Now that’s fun.

Anyway, while working for the sub shop I was trained in the delicate art of sub-making. A slice of the bread. A spread of lettuce, four tomatoes, a spread of onions, a pre-determined number of meat slices or tuna balls, a pre-determined number of cheese pieces (one strip for American, four provolone, two swiss…wow I still remember), the dressing, the final cut, and BAM! Wrap and load.

Anyway, for efficiency sake, making subs in record time correctly was important to me and the company. Why? Because if you ever waited in a McDonald’s drive thru line pretty much….anywhere…it’s easy to observe that the extra $10 an hour per employee doesn’t buy efficiency. Just more whining. That’s another blog entry too.

It must have been my early knack for offering efficiency in service that drove me to want to be the fastest sub maker in the company. As it turned out, the sub company hosted a huge event at the Marriott, and I qualified for the sub making races. Yahoo! I forget my qualifying time, but I was making a sub in under ten seconds.

First prize was $1000. Second prize was $500.. Third prize was…a golden coke bottle. What? Well, you can guess by the title where I placed, but there is a story for this.

You see, they provided brand new bread knives for the competition. So, on go, I picked up the shiny serrated knife and sliced not only the top of the bread off, but my finger as well, leaving a gash that I temporarily ignored because I was too busy trying to win the race. And guess what…with blood spatter all over the sub and cutting board, I won the first round! Don’t worry, nobody ate the tainted sub.

Anyway, I knew I had to compete in the semi-finalist round so I bandaged up my finger and shoved my extra-long, puffy digit into the glove, and pressed on. Unfortunately, with the bandage hinderance, I was not able to secure my place in the finals. Yet, I did win third place in the company, which earned me the honors of a golden coke bottle along with a couple of stitches.

I still have that coke bottle today (along with a scar on my finger). The bottle and battle scar serve as a reminder that we must never give up. In spite of the blood, sweat, and tears. We must always press on.

*featured picture is not MY coke bottle. I’m abroad so had to act quickly to bind a substitute picture.