Everyone has heard that you’re not supposed to break up via text, but no one tells you where you’re supposed to do it instead.
Allie and I met our freshman year of college while working together at “The POD,” the campus convenience store that sold overpriced snacks to stoners. She was a sweet small-town girl, but after hanging out outside of work for a week, it was clear we had nothing in common besides our job. Conversations would inevitably drift back to work topics like which co-worker didn’t close properly the night before, how $7.25 an hour wasn’t actually that bad, and what expired food we were lucky enough to take home.
As someone who wanted to avoid thinking about that job whenever possible, I felt it best we just be friends. I probably could’ve texted Allie this and she would’ve completely understood. Instead, I overthought the interaction into oblivion. I worried I would make our future shifts together very awkward if I didn’t do it in person. Unfortunately, when you fixate on not hitting something, you end up slamming into it.
I decided the proper venue for breaking up was Subway. While I don’t know why I chose to break up with her there, I do know why I wanted to go. I had a friend on the inside who would give me free sandwiches in return for free stuff from the POD. Of course, our arrangement only extended to each other, so Allie still paid for her sandwich and cookie.
We sat in the wobbly green and yellow chairs and immediately I was thinking, just rip the bandaid off. As we unwrapped our sandwiches I blurted:
“This isn’t going to work.”
“What?”
“Us seeing each other. We’re not a match”
Her eyes became glossy.
“Why didn’t you just tell me before? Why did you ask me on a date to Subway?”
“I’m not sure... I was trying to follow the rule that you shouldn’t break things off via text.”
“That’s fine, but why didn’t you just call me or do this somewhere private?”
It was a great question, and not a new one. People had been asking me some version of “why would you do that?” my whole life. I could only seem to learn social norms by breaking them, paying the consequences, and then adding them to my not-to-do list.
Because Subway breakups weren’t on my not-to-do list yet, I had no way of knowing. Along with my terrible location choice came my terrible timing. I had 12 inches of sandwich left and we were out of things to talk about.
We endured long stretches of silence as I dove into the tuna with extra pickles and she sat stone-cold still, meal untouched. I could see the gears in her head spinning to interpret what this meant.
“I’m not mad at you for breaking it off. I’m mad at you for doing it here,” she sniffled.
“I know... I’m sorry... I’m an idiot...”
We continued to try to communicate for 20 minutes but the only things we could manage to talk about were her confusion and my acknowledgment that I am a confused individual.
Allie tired from our conversational circles, and announced, “Well, I’ve lost my appetite.” She crumpled the paper around her meal into a ball and scooted down the booth toward the trash can.
“Allie, wait!” I said.
“Are you going to eat that cookie?”
Dylan, that sounds like something George Costa near would say in a Seinfeld episode, lol.