The Slice

WEDNESDAY, JAN. 9, 2013, 9:15 A.M.

Memo to SR food editor Lorie Hutson

Hi, Lorie

I haven't done a food section story in a while. But I have an idea to pitch.

"Insanely Sloppy Sandwiches and the Insane People Who Make Them."

They're out there. Men (and possibly women) who simply lack condiment control. Because of their food-prep mental impairment, they are incapable of making a sandwich that does not start turning into a bready pile of goo before they even sit down and find something to watch on TV.

These people could be your friends. They might be your neighbors.

To the casual observer, they seem normal and well-adjusted.

But when they start making a sandwich, something happens. Something scary. A sort of stacking mania takes over and they end up constructing snacks that would require flying buttresses to maintain structural integrity.

And once they begin to shove these unholy creations into their gaping maws, they have to maintain a death grip on the Frankensandwich or else a cascading failure will commence with an avalanche of pickles, mayo and tomato slices.

Forget napkins. This full-face wipe-down is a job for a beach towel.

Story would address several key questions: 

Is it a cry for help?

Should there be a support group?

Should mustard be a controlled substance?

When is it time to organize an intervention?

Do sloppy-sandwich makers pass along a sandwich-disaster gene?

Could also do confessional first-person sidebar: "My name is Paul, and I have been making out-of-control sandwiches since I was a teenager."

Anyway, let me know what you think.

Thanks for considering this.   

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