In an attempt to properly honor Super Bowl Sunday, I made my maiden voyage to the Plaza's patriotic new sub shop, Firehouse Subs, which is decorated with fire boots and other firefighting memorabilia. Solid turkey sub, giant fountain Coke: nothing better on a Sunday afternoon ...
... except for what I saw after ordering my sandwich.
As I walked toward the pickup counter, a pair of EMTs walked in. The first, a woman, marched right to the counter. A second, a young man, trailed behind her a few feet. I saw that his sweatshirt said "fire," then I looked at his face. He had a little smile going.
"An actual fire guy in Firehouse Subs," I blurted, unable to contain my excitement.
"Yes," he responded, lingering a few feet away from the counter. "A little weird. That's why I'm not getting anything."
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