AS PROMISED: AN INSIDE LOOK AT MY MAIL-ORDER ROAST BEEF SANDWICH COMPANY.
Of all my great ideas, this one’s the best. By far the most profitable and most pa-leasing to people of all walks and all types.
I needed to justify my monthly expense of renting a Medium-Sized Post Office box at my local USPS branch. The postal staff also needed justification for daily extended lobby visits and sometimes naps.
AND I LOVE ROAST BEFFED SANDWICHES.
The concept is simple, as they say.
For a mere $14.95+postage, you can send me your best roast beef sandwich – homemade, store bought or stolen does not matter – and I will rate it and judge it and devour it thusly.
I will place food sent to me from a stranger into my stomach and describe in writing how it makes me feel.
I will do this in front of people. The postal lobby is my studio.
You will be provided with no less than 1500 words description and critique. I may include a diagram. For some, I will breathe into a bottle immediately after the last bite and cap it securely and enclose that as well.
I will judge: taste, texture, odor, personality, arrangement, girth, onion-count, horse-radish intensity and composition of the sandwich.
If your layers go (from bottom): Bread, Cheese, Beef, Tomato, Onion, More Cheese, Second Layer of Beef, Peanut Butter, Olive then Bread, I will notice.
If your layers go (again from bottom): Bread, Beef, More Beef, Third Layer of Beef, Water Chestnut, then Bread, I will notice.
It does not matter where you live. Near or far, I rate all Roast Beef Sandwiches that have stamps on them. Their story is the most important in-gred-i-ent.
Once written, I will not send you my review. Instead it will be dipped in Seltzer water, rolled into a ball, and also consumed.
I plan on spending each weekend in the hospital, dreaming of Monday’s trip to the Post Office box, my stomach surgeries paid for by my vibrant Mail-Order Roast Beef Sandwich Company.
Or should I say: Udder Brilliance?