She had said it with such sincerity. Her eyes widened and she gazed at me, as if trying to see into my soul, my brain, my entire being. Trying to draw forward that hidden meaning of.. What is a sandwich, really, to me?
It has been a couple of hectic days with press conferences and interviews. And I’m tired, it is late afternoon and my stomach started growing an hour ago. There is no restaurant close to this hotel where I’m staying. There are three large fridges in the reception area, and they contain chocolate bars, wine, beer, more beer, soft drinks, and assorted bags of salty snacks.
For your travel adventures!
The reception is empty by the way, because the 20-something female receptionist runs into the back as soon as she has dealt with last customer that stood banging the bell on the front desk.
Less than a minute ago that was me. Frustrated I hit that hotel bell more than twice before she graced me with her presence. Dark long hair, simple white blouse and jeans. Narrow face and a delicate nose, inquisitive yet disinterested eyes. The philosopher, you might think if of a prejudiced inclination.
“Say, you don’t sell sandwiches, do you?” I asked, tentatively trying to bring forth the deductive capabilities of the receptionist.
“No.” Well, let’s try harder. I mean, in some contexts and countries, they would ask, “why, do you want to find something to eat?” But she did not. So I tried again.
“Do you know where around here I could buy a sandwich?”
And this is when she stopped staring at her keyboard, lifted her gaze and squinted (really), before she smirked and answered “what do you mean by a sandwich, really?”
I could have just insulted her best friend, or at the very least squeezed past her in a line and pushed her to the ground – Such was her intonation and posture. I did not know what to say so I let impulse fly.
“Well.. It’s not a hamburger.”
“I mean.. It’s got bread.. Maybe cheese..” my eyes flinched because she had not stopped staring at me. “There might be a tomato.”
“No, I do not know where you can buy that around here.”
The conversation was over and she let her gaze fall to the screen as she continued typing something. Maybe she was typing something that she could not say to avoid being rude.
“Well. That settles it. Thank you.”
Culture, language and social behavior in customer service settings is fun.
And now I am left for the remainder of this evening, to truly, utterly contemplate.. “What is a sandwich, really?”
