I was sitting in Subway (the restaurant) and took no more than glancing notice of a mother with her middle school aged (perhaps a bit older) daughter. They stood in line for a bit, perhaps they talked, but then the mother gets out of line to retrieve bags of chips, apologizing insincerely to the rest of the line before returning to her spot. Not against the rules, just a bit unusual.
Then she turns to her daughter and begins comparing the nutrition labels aloud. Her daughter says something, and mother responds by saying "Well, you can make up for it by not eating something this afternoon".
Suddenly I am slightly worried. Both mother and daughter were of a similar build, a bit stocky and Germanic, but neither of them in any danger of the tumidity which affects so many fellow Americans. I return to my lunch for a while until they proceed further down the line.
"Excuse me, how many calories is that?" Asks mother. Daughter had apparently just requested the addition of some sort of dressing to be put on the sandwich. I am unsure as to whether that was addressed at the poor, abused Subway worker or at her daughter, but the Subway worker hands mother a nutrition pamphlet.
"That," she says, voice full of shock and soft outrage, "is sixty calories. You don't need sixty calories, that is half a cookie." Daughter mumbles something and no dressing is applied. I thank the very heavens that the two of them did not stay to eat, instead piling in a shiny silver SUV and driving off.