The Tuna Hunger Games

I'll have a tuna sandwich.

Half or whole?

Half, please. What does that come with?

Lettuce, tomato, onion.

Hold the onion. So, lettuce, tomato, and mayo with the tuna fish, right? What kind of bread does it come in? 

Whatever you like. We have . . . 

White. Yeah, white is okay. Can you toast it?

Yes, we can do that.

Thank you.

For here or to go?

Here. 

Take this device to your table, and we'll find you.

Okay.

I then receive a tuna panini. Tuna, mayo, lettuce, and tomato grilled or however it is heated.

To my two friends: I didn't ask for a panini. I just wanted a tuna fish sandwich with the bread toasted. Should I go up and tell them? I mean, I don't necessarily want to go all Steve Jobs on them, but this isn't what I wanted.

I would. It's not what you asked for. Go ahead.

At the counter in front of the food-prep area: This is a panini. I just wanted a tuna fish sandwich with lettuce, tomato, mayo, and no onion -- with the bread toasted.

I don't understand. That's what you hav --

I don't want the tuna fish heated, I...

Quizzical expressions. My server walks to the trash receptacle and ceremoniously lets the food contents slide off the plastic plate into the garbage hole destined for a landfill.

One of my friends at the table concurred in particular regarding a distaste for and aversion to heated mayonnaise, for reasons of health and taste. I considered dropping the whole notion of toasted bread, but no...

Moments later: A plate with four pieces of toasted white bread and nothing on the bread.

My turn for quizzical facial expression.

Pause.

Halt.

Is that what you wanted, sir? It's been a tough night on the line.

Where's the tuna fish? Where'd it go? And the lettuce, tomato, mayo?

A wide chasm existed between what I was thinking of saying and what sounds emerged from my mouth, though my two friends said my face and body language revealed the interior volcano that I was trying to disguise and squelch.

The chasm was getting smaller, more narrow, and smoldering.

Um, where's the tuna fish?

I kind of thought maybe you wanted the tuna fish. Hold on . . .  

Seconds later: A plate holding tuna fish with mayo in a cardboard cup for me to make the aforementioned and requested sandwich onto the four pieces of toasted bread and lettuce and tomato.

Is it me? Was it that hard? Was I that unclear?

My two friends tended to agree with me, or maybe they were exercising diplomacy and politesse.

Sometimes life ain't as simple as you'd think.

Gawd.