Forget about COVID, the West Coast on fire, police brutality, and whatever it is you-know-who is tweeting today -  I had a near tragic calamity of the highest order today. I placed my Jimmy John's order (BLT Little John special) promptly at 1:15 and strolled over to Bakery Square to pick it up, whereupon I was informed that no order had been received from yours truly! I started to have palpitations and perspire profusely which, being a physician, I promptly recognized as symptoms of Jimmy John withdrawal disorder. What was I to do? I suppose I could have just placed another order at Bakery Square while I was there and waited a couple of minutes for the order but, believe it or not, this never even occurred to me because, first and foremost, I am huge cheapskate. You see, I had already paid for my online order and there was no way I was going to forfeit that $6.42 forever to Jimmy John's Franchise LLC. So I ran home and checked my receipt and, lo and behold, I had stupidly ordered my Little John special from the Squirrel Hill Jimmy John's! I then hopped into my Volvo and exceeded every posted speed limit on the way to Forbes Avenue, nearly hitting several innocent women and children on the way there. Imagine my relief when I spied my BLT, chips and 22 oz. Coke waiting for me on the counter, like the Holy Grail at the end of Sir Galahad's quest! Soon my withdrawal symptoms abated and I gave myself a self-congratulatory pat on the back for overcoming seemingly overwhelming odds in order to solve yet another incredibly formidable First World problem.