Anyone who has visited Subway will know there are loads of decisions to be made.
You are faced with deciding the type of bread you want, along with the sauce, salad and of course, the filling.
And there is nothing worse than being stuck behind an indecisive eater when you just want to tuck into your sandwich.
To test how patient staff have to be, Essex Live's Brad Gray travelled to their local Subway in Chelmer Village, Chelmsford, and tried to be as difficult as possible.
The rules
But I'm a nice person (honest!) and after working in retail and hospitality for four years, I would never want to ruin an employee's day.
So I couldn't be rude or abusive, or do anything that wasn't allowed under Subway code - e.g change bread order half way through.
Beginning my order
If you've ever been to a Subway before you'll know that you start at one end of the counter and move to the other, ending up at the till.
But would a difficult person know that?
I didn't think so. So as I approached a queue-less counter, I cluelessly strode up smiling to the till.
I was politely told to go down to the other end of the counter by the sandwich artist in front of me.
Getting that bread
Breads at Subway haven't changed for a few years, and through my many trips, I've developed and encyclopedic knowledge of which ones to go for and which ones to avoid.
However, the breads had literally changed that day.
I actually needed some help with my decision, so I asked the artist which ones to get.
She walked me through the different types and told me which ones were new: Multi-Seeded, Gluten-Free and Chilli Paprika have replaced Honey-Oat and Flatbreads, FYI.
I settled on a hilli Paprika base, because let's face it, it sounds pretty exciting.
When I was asked whether or not I wanted a six-inch or a footlong, I feigned confusion and said: "Can I have the big one please?"
Ordering the filling
OK, we've got an empty 12-inch Chilli Paprika sub in front of the "sandwich artist".
Let's up the ante.
"Can I have chicken and ham?"
Those are two separate sandwiches options, and there's not a chicken and ham sub on the menu. So I thought that might throw a spanner in the works.
However, my sandwich artist nodded without hesitation.
Like a valiant soldier, she marched onwards, casting aside my menial requests like they were used napkins.
I knew I had to up the game.
"Chicken on one side and ham on the other please?"
Now this was cheeky, and my artist paused for a millisecond, until she approved of my decision and carried on.
"Would you like it with cheese and toasted?" she asked me.
"Yes," I replied. "But cheese only on the chicken side, and could you take it out halfway through, so it's just kind of warmed up?"
I thought I'd got her, I thought she'd sigh or squint her eyes or show at least a smidge of frustration.
Instead, she just asked: "Microwave?"
Very, very clever.
Salad issues
On to the word that scares me, salad. And I'd hoped would cause my artist a few issues.
"On the chicken side can I have just tomato? And on the other side carrot, and sweetcorn... oh and peppers all over."
Personally if someone had ordered that, I'd instantly start hiding the kitchen knives and start searching for an escape plan.
But she carried on with my stupid requests completely unphased.
This is where I felt a bit bad because her manager, noticing that a 90 second order was taking six times longer than necessary, came over to intervene.
She told the woman making my sandwich that it wasn't really allowed for me to have my footlong as two different sandwiches like I'd asked.
I broke a rule. Whoops.
I, now red-faced and embarrassed, apologised profusely, quoting my quite obvious lack of Subway tact as the reason behind the issue.
The manager, just as kindly as my the staff member bossing my order so far, just shrugged and said "This time we'll let you off."
Sauce and sides
Nevertheless, I had a job to do and I couldn't let my affinity for my new favourite Subway get in the way of that.
It's worth mentioning that as a picky eater, I can't eat anything involving sauce.
I'm ridiculed for this relentlessly in my private life.
So I used a rare saucy opportunity to utilise a really big pet peeve of mine, which is how people pronounce Chipotle and Chi-pottle instead of Chipot-lay.
"Can I have the Chi-pottle one is that right?
"The Chipot-lay Southwest?" I was asked.
"Yes the Chi-pottle one, thank you."
As a former waiter, this would have driven me very close to breaking point on top of everything else.
But seeing how calm my artist was, it just made me re-evaluate myself.
Was I too angry? Did I need to re-evaluate my life? Was she just new enough to find it funny?
I carried on.
Finishing off
To finish off, I ordered three cookies (all different ones) and a hot chocolate (which they had to make instead of me just grabbing a bottle).
Grasping for some final way to be annoying, I asked for an extra carrier bag and made a pig's ear of the card machine.
Astoundingly, not once through my degenerate display did anyone working there so much as bat and eyelid.
I was so impressed and I want to say thank you to the staff and I will be back very soon with a much simpler order.
If you have problems ordering at Subway, their website actually has a handy step-by-step guide on how to order.
Final thoughts
1. Being a Subway sandwich artist is hard.
2. You have to deal with difficult customers every day whilst working through peak-time rushes and memorising an ever changing menu.
3. I didn't eat the sandwich (see earlier hatred of sauce), but my colleague Elliot did, and he really liked the monstrosity I created.
So overall, top marks to the Chelmer Village Square Subway, and I hope they never have a customer as bad as me again.
Also, I found out that the sandwich artist in charge of my order was quite new to the job, so she gets amazing praise and sincere apologies from me.
But at least I can sit happy with my Chipotle anger levels.
Talk about a journalist protecting his sauces.
