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Some men are inspired by nature. Some are inspired by women. A few--OK, one--is inspired by fast food establishments. And that man is me.

How else can one explain blog entries about a certain unappreciated dollar tip at Sonic, not picking up a girl at Hardees, and the KFC high talker? Perhaps it's because eating out and going to the grocery store comprise about ninety percent of my interaction with the outside world. Or maybe it's because... well, actually, it's probably that ninety percent thing.

Speaking of the high talker, I got him again last week. No sooner had I ordered my delicious lemon parfait than I started thinking that lilting, high-pitched voice sounded familiar. Sure enough, it was him. So that's three trips, and I've called him ma'am every time. If I ever become famous, I'm hiring him as my personal assistant. It's the only way to ever assuage my guilt.

Yesterday I found myself inspired again, this time by Subway. Normally at the drive thru, they take your order, get your money, give your change, then go and make your sandwich. After a couple of minutes, they return with your sandwich, and I usually try to say something cool like, "Jared! Holla!" as I pull away.

Well, the drive thru attendant yesterday seemed like she was newish. She took my order but didn't take my money, just went to make my sandwich. While she was gone, I started thinking about what if she never asks for my money.

That led to me composing an entire blog post in my head about how this must be one way Obama is trying to stimulate the economy and help people out. It's called Pay-Is-Optional Fast Food. If you want to pay, you can. But if you don't feel like you can afford it, just take your sandwich and the government will subsidize Subway later.

It all seemed hilarious as I was sitting there waiting on my six inch Subway club on wheat. (Now? Not so much.) I smiled at my own genius, already picturing the Jared "Yes We Can" ad campaign, and was excited about coming home and blogging it. Then the girl came back to the window, took my money and gave me my sandwich, basically ruining my entire story... and possibly our nation's economic future.

I come up with all these brilliant ideas. But when I try and put them into action, these fast food attendants don't seem to want to cooperate. It can be quite vexing, as you might imagine.

So I guess the bottom line is nothing really happened at Subway yesterday. Unless you count what went on inside my head.

"Life moved and I stopped to taste it. I drank it up 'til it left me wasted. But my rains have bled a softer red. Oh, you should see the world inside my head..."