Panera Sandwiches the Last Thing Worth Fighting For

The Way We Live Now: Off someone else's credit card, mostly. It's the only way to afford Panera sandwiches and still have enough left over for our health care premiums. Hope this "riskless" paper we invested in pays off!

The three guys arrested for conspiring to steal 130 million credit card numbers shouldn't be treated so harshly; these days, 130 million credit card numbers only yield you four or five that actually have enough credit to buy anything worthwhile.

And when we say "worthwhile," we mean the $16.99 lobster sandwich at Panera. Sure, the other slobs at the office can settle for some homemade PB&J, or a microwave burrito from the 7-11, or whatever they were able to plunder from the vending machine after smashing it to gain sustenance. But for you, nothing says "class" like that $16.99 lobster sandwich, on Panera's trademarked bread. With half a pound of lobster—along with that good old bread—it's a sandwich that says to the world, "I am a member of Panera's target audience: 25 to 50 years old, earning $40,000 to $100,000 a year." Any older and you'd be eating at a cafeteria; any younger you'd be eating at Taco Bell; any richer and you'd be eating at Applebee's; and any poorer and you'd be eating that fucking garbage they call food over at Cosi.

You're a Panera customer. It's who you are.

Starbucks workers protesting their health care premiums? They should be protesting the inferiority of their sandwiches. Too many losers, all around you. Starbucks doesn't have one ounce of lobster meat in the store anywhere, period. Focus. Allow us to let you in on a little secret, people: you want to live the good life, eating $16.99 lobster sandwiches at Panera, where they keep the good bread? Invest in something totally riskless. Like auction rate securities, from Charles Schwab. Just as riskless as real estate. Just as riskless as an all-lobster-sandwich diet. At Panera. Live a little.