Jimmy John’s Friday

It’s Friday and for IU sophomore John Broadwell, that can only mean one thing: Jimmy John’s.

Jan. 17 marked week 77 in John’s quest to have a weekly Jimmy John’s sandwich. He gets the same thing every time.

“A No. 5, no onions.”

John’s love for Jimmy John’s is so deep-rooted it has become part of his weekly routine, a natural commitment he documents with a weekly selfie on his Instagram story. Not only does he make weekly trips to the store for his go-to order, he often arrives dressed in Jimmy John’s-branded clothing. And in a digital art class freshman year, he made every one of his projects themed to his favorite sandwich shop.

“I always encourage them to consider having a consistent theme to work with; a lot of people might explore grief or something of that nature, or sustainability,” professor Dominick Rivers, who taught the course, said. “And he came in and was like, ‘Jimmy John’s it is.’”

John’s first project was a Photoshop piece of the discovery of the No. 5 sandwich — with no onions, of course.

After it was finished, his professor encouraged him to print it out and give it to the employees of his go-to Jimmy John’s.

“We got it framed, it was in the store right above their ice cube machine for a few months,” John said.

Next was a 3D virtual reality world with a Jimmy John’s temple and a website that laid out a conspiracy theory surrounding the creation of Jimmy John’s.

John printed out all the projects he created that semester and compiled them on a bulletin board that hangs directly across from the front door of his apartment.

“My conspiracy board, yeah,” he said, explaining his fictional Jimmy John’s lore.

John’s fictionalized version of history begins in 1450 with the discovery of the No. 5 by Spanish conquistadors, who then disappeared.

In the 1960s, John imagined, the CIA began to work with a Jimmy John’s competitor, Anthony Bolognavich, to replicate the magical life-giving properties of the sandwiches.

“And they don’t want you to know this,” John said. “But Jimmy John is that original conquistador. He’s lived for hundreds of years, sustaining himself on the power of his magical sandwich.”

John’s own Jimmy John’s story began during his senior year of high school. He was a wrestler and with every win, he would head to his favorite sandwich shop with his friends to celebrate. When he made it to Indiana state wrestling finals in the spring, his family made custom shirts with his name, school mascot and — of course — a Jimmy John’s sandwich. So, it was only natural for him to turn to a familiar favorite once he came to IU.

Each Friday, John crossed the street from his Eigenmann dorm to the tiny 10th Street Jimmy John’s for a sandwich to celebrate the end of the week. On Aug. 11, 2023, he posted a selfie of himself at the black plastic table outside the store, holding a wrapped sandwich with the caption “first official Jimmy John’s Friday went swimmingly.”

“I think I said it almost ironically,” John said.

He certainly didn’t think it would become a weekly tradition. But for 77 weeks, he has kept up the gig. He almost always goes on a Friday and always gets that famous No. 5 sandwich, the Vito.

“That’s what I’ve always gotten. When I was a lad, when I was like eight, my mom picked it out for me, and I like it,” John said. “That’s what I’ve just been doing ever since.”

He often invites friends to eat with him, but none have remained as devoted as he has. He admits his girlfriend, while “supportive,” doesn’t particularly like Jimmy John’s.

“Personally, I like Subway,” Brooke Roessler, his girlfriend of a year and a half, said.

And even a sandwich superfan like John doesn’t always crave his favorites.

“I won’t lie, sometimes it’s tough,” he admitted. “But for the most part, my love of Jimmy John’s has stayed pretty consistent.”

On one sunny Friday in December, John arrives at Jimmy John’s around 1:05 p.m. He’s not wearing his signature red Jimmy John’s shirt or even his branded Christmas sweater, but he is still dressed for the occasion in a red zip-up and black shorts.

He orders his regular, paying $6.47 before sitting down at the high top with his sandwich. He unwraps the paper to reveal salami, capocollo and provolone, topped with lettuce, tomato, oil, vinegar and oregano-basil, on freshly baked French bread.

“I think that’s the biggest thing that separates them from other competitors,” John says. “Beautiful, beautiful bread.”

He speaks with wisdom, nodding as he expounds on topics from the Jimmy John’s rewards program to the controversial Picklewich. Soon enough, he finishes his sandwich and heads back out to his car.

But he’ll be back; John doesn’t plan to stop his weekly Jimmy John’s trips anytime soon. After all, he even shares a name with the store. His take on the matching names?

“I think it was destiny.”

Like what you're reading?
Support independent, award-winning student journalism. Donate.