…to do a Frenchman’s job.

Melinda asked me to go to the dining car and get her a cheese sandwich. Of course I knew what she meant by this, a French baguette with a hard French cheese. On I trudged to the correct car, out of first class and into second.

I admit to feeling at home (but I could get used to the comfy seats in first class).

Anyway, I arrived in the dining car and reviewed the menu. I didn’t see a cheese sandwich but there was one with ham. I carefully avoided the tasty sounding sandwich on focaccia bread. Approaching the desk, I managed to order the ham and cheese sandwich without incident (this is no Ricard situation, if you know what I mean).

But here’s the deal. You don’t get to SEE the sandwiches before ordering, so when the man returned with what any American would recognize as a sandwich, I was flummoxed. Do I reject it after successfully ordering it, or suck it up and buy it, knowing I’ll have some explaining to do?

As you can see from the photo, I went the route of explaining.