Peter D.
Yelp
Dear Random Caribbean Guy who was in front of me in line to get a sandwich my first time at Allwyn's: Thank you. I love you. You have no idea how much you impacted my life just by ordering your sandwhich right before I was going to. Yes, I saw the giant photo of the JERK CHICKEN SANDWICH in the door, and yes, it looked delicious as it was. But you knew something I didn't. You had deeper knowledge that I could not even have dreamed of.
Before I continue, if anybody else is reading this letter to Random Caribbean Guy, even though it isn't really any of your business, you should keep reading, and you may just thank me and love me the same way.
Yes, RCG (can I call you RCG?), you knew there was a secret to taking a sandwich, that was excellent just as it was, and elevating it to something supernaturally delicious. You opened up a portal to a universe far more yummy than the one the rest of us are living in.
RCG, you opened the eyes of my taste buds. Enlightenment.
You asked for your sandwich to be smothered with cooked plantains instead of coleslaw. Sweet instead of sour, to complement the savoury, salty, spicy chicken. Nothing wrong with slaw, until you try the plantains and realize that coleslaw will never do... ever again.
But you didn't stop there, RCG. Then you asked for some oxtail gravy on there as well. Oxtail gravy? But that's savoury and salty, like the chicken. Are you sure? You were sure. And you were right.
I asked the man behind the counter for the same thing that you were having. I told you that your choice sounded really interesting, and you kindly explained everything to me in detail, but I'm gonna be real with you, RCG: as soon as I bit into that sandwich, words didn't matter any more. I don't remember what you said about the freshness of plantains blah blah blah, and I'm sorry, but I'm not sorry. I don't care. I may not understand the details, but I have the secret recipe, and that's all that matters. I thank you. And I love you. Peace.
-Peter