Toronto Observation #9

I finally found an inked-up, emo-dude employee to throw his wadded-up balls of angst at me! Unfortunately, he was making my sandwich at Subway rather than spitting in my coffee at Starbucks. Sure, I can make a sandwich at home for 20-cents, but it's more fun to watch a clinically depressed sociopath peel slices of meat like it's a roll of twenties, while wishing with all your heart that the sneezeguard was on his side of the counter.