He notices that half of the ceiling fans at Subway are spinning clockwise and the other three are counter. He tries to note the upward or downward angle of their blades, but four are spinning too quickly; the slower fans, however, certainly appear to be working at cross purposes.

He wonders if this is intentional, wonders if anyone else ever noticed and—if the direction were reversible—if anyone would even bother. He considers discussing this with one of the drones doling out the foot-longs, but has learned (from bitter experience) that he’d only receive a polite smile and a blank stare to his face and a smirk and an impolite gesture once his back was turned.

He knows that they have no idea what life is like for him, and is certain they'd never trade places. He, on the other hand, would give his left nut for the chance to make the same six sandwiches over and over again, all day long.