Hidden somewhere behind the counter at a Subways in midtown, this bathroom key reflects the living at the edge level of the establishment.  No AC on a hot muggy day, trying to save money to pay the lone Asian immigrant's minimum wage salary.  Where is he from?  China, Vietnam? Not clear.  His working knowledge of English is good enough to communicate with the mixed bag of mostly blue collar workers and tourists looking for a deal in this unforgiving city.  Ordering involves mostly pointing and head-nodding, once you get past the type of sandwich.  The key, wrapped in the classic jack-of-all trades duck or duct tape, depending on your origins, is perfectly at home in this business trapped inside a neighborhood of $7.00 frappes and other luxuries of conspicuous middle class consumption.  The plastic tag holding the key just another expression of the do with what you can attitude of customers and staff. The partially obscured sign that plays key chain harks back to the food you are ordering or ordered and will or have consumed.  Does it not make sense for the bathroom key to make that reference?