by Sam Clemens
On a cool and sunny morning, Cosmo Hendricks rolled out of bed and stretched. It was 11:09. He and Laird had gotten hammered at the previous night’s Horse trike races—a Tuesday tradition. They’d competed as a relay team and come in second. Cosmo was hungover and extremely thirsty, but in good spirits. It felt good to not be in charge of anything.
He donned a bulky down jacket and a pair of snow boots. Outside, the sun reflected off the snow, and Cosmo had to squint. He found the paved path and made the short walk to Copper Mine subs.
The place was just as he’d left it. Green and white tile, bland decor, and devoid of customers. An unfamiliar man stood behind the register and took his order. Buffalo chicken on white, sub ranch for bleu cheese, size medium. Medium, please—he repeated this twice. The man got to work and Cosmo waited at the other end.
“Order up,” the worker said, and applied a piece of tape to hold the sandwich wrapping together. He handed the sub to Cosmo.
Cosmo Hendricks took the buffalo chicken sandwich in both hands and examined it. He stared hard, ensuring confirmation. Yes, it was a medium. Yes, he’d paid full price. No, there were no accompanying drinks or cookies.
“Sir,” the man behind the counter said, noticing his odd examination, “is everything okay?”
Cosmo looked up at him. “Yes,” he said. “Everything’s perfect.”
About the Author
Sam Clemens is a humor writer, frequent yeller, and comma enthusiast, all of which he’s working on. He’s the author of the Content Series and the New York Times Bestseller Memoirs of a Gas Station: A Delightfully Awkward Journey Across the Alaskan Tundra. He is not Mark Twain.
His books have been described as “overall entertaining,” “not great, but not terrible,” and “foul-mouthed juvenile dissertations that show a lack of a moral compass.” He lives in Denver, Colorado, with his wife, son, and fluffy dog.
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