My time to shine.
I was travelling through there with my family and my wife says she wants a picture of the Sandwich Police because, hey, why not. We figure the has to be cop cars at the police station, right? So we cruise by, she rolls down the window and takes a picture of their parking lot. So now we’re sitting there, looking at our GPS figuring out where to go next. Cue the flashing red and blue lights. Yup, one of the cops had pulled up behind us asking why we were taking pictures of a secure location. Fortunately we were able to explain and it turned into a humorous situation. The cop was surprisingly cool and let us take pictures of his cruiser. He joked that, “yes, we’re the Sandwich Police, we make sure a foot long is actually a foot long.”
“What seems to be the problem here?”
“This man claims a hotdog is a sandwich.”
“Is this true?”
“They are! They’re open-faced sandwiches!”
“I’ve heard enough. Take him away, boys.”
Structurally, what’s the difference between a hotdog and a submarine sandwich?
My dad used to tell me about the city of Peanut Butter in Illinois, on Route 34, near Plano and Sandwich.
Plano, Peanut Butter, Sandwich.
I miss him.
ACAB includes the sandwiches.