Things that are happy

My roommate and I apparently officially have a nickname at Subway.

Last week we had one of our semi-weekly dinner dates at the Subway near our house.  It’s about a 10 minute walk over, and is usually a nice break  for my roommate from being a walking, talking, full-on Study Nerd, and the break in the evening often results in lots of nonsensical chatter and general joviality.

I mean, we’re outside… we’re walking… we’re enjoying each other’s company… we’re about to treat ourselves and consume utter deliciousness that we didn’t prepare ourselves.  What’s not to like? It’s basically one of the best parts of my week.

We continue our goofy sarcastic banter as we walk into Subway, and begin to order our sandwiches when one of the sandwich-maker-guys notes, “Wow. You two are really happy, aren’t you?”

Naturally, we look at one another and laugh, because, well, we, um, laugh a lot around each other. I should interject here that I have a vivid memory of the first week I met my roommate where we were racing down a slippery mountain in pouring rain and soupy fog, wearing rain pants and hiking boots, falling every twenty feet, and laughing hysterically while doing so.  Apparently we convinced people we had ADHD.  And this sums up fairly well our relationship with each other. Also, we do things like this.

We’re not super-cool dorks at all.

Fast forward a week later, and it’s time for Subway again.

We walk into Subway, say “Hi!” and are immediately greeted by the same guy who notes, “Oh. You’re those happy girls, aren’t you?”

So this guy has probably served several hundred people by now, and yet, he is still able identify us as “The Happy Girls,” from one word we say.

When we walked out, he told the Happy Girls to come back and visit them again.

Hee, we have a collective nickname.

At first I was thinking maybe we should work on being morose when we go on our Subway date nights, but on second thought, I’m a total dork, so… no.

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