I don’t even know how to begin this letter. I wanted to tell you in person–I really did–but I panicked. I saw your eyes light up when I walked through the door this morning to pick up my #13 Original Italian on Wheat (Mike’s Way) and all of my resolve went out the window like yesterday’s fresh baked bread.
I’m moving. There. I said it. The time has come for me to leave Nashville to start a new chapter of my life back in Kansas. Hey, c’mon! Just look at me! Please! This isn’t about you. You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything the relationship I have with you is what has kept me in Nashville for seven beautiful years. You are not the gross Subway in the gas station down the road. You are an unchanging rock built on a foundation of Onions, Lettuce, Tomatoes, Vinegar, Oil and Spices and you’ve remained consistent since opening day in 1956.
It’s just time, employees at the Jersey Mike’s on Lebanon Pike, you know? I got a new job and some new music opportunities and it’s closer to my family and I’d been feeling kind of restless and you know what? I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you. You should just be happy for me. I am going after what I want which is more than I can say for you. Where is your location in Wichita? Why do you have two locations in Topeka? Topeka is a nothing town. I don’t care if it is the capitol. Why don’t you take care of the plank in your own eye, my friend?
Agh. I don’t want to fight. I promised myself I wouldn’t leave things this way.
The truth is, I am so thankful for the time we had together. I can’t tell you what it has meant for me to have you guys kind of learn my name and be able to mostly recognize my face when I walk through your doors at least once a week. You have kept me full both in stomach and in heart. I hope to one day return such kindness.
This isn’t the end of us. In fact, I would argue it is only the beginning. I love you. Please don’t forget about me.
Until next time,
#13 Original Italian on Wheat (Mike’s Way)