I was at least 50 yards away with no line of sight in the airport today, yet my nasal passages were suddenly accosted by something slimy, slightly overdue, and unmistakably sweaty. I thought - surely not. Here too? It couldn’t possibly be.

Maybe someone had just opened a paper bag holding turkey, nestled between two soggy slices of wheat bread left out in the sun too long.

Maybe a cucumber had been rotting in someone’s suitcase since their last excursion.

Maybe a utility cart just rolled by, carrying a wet mop soaked in mustard.

Or perhaps some cold cuts had fused with their plastic wrap and evolved into something new - yet nostalgically tragic.

But no. Unfortunately not.

It was the promise of freshness. It was Subway.