I prefer extra mayo, and mustard made of sunshine. He’s a mayonnaise minimalist who likes his Dijon served from a vintage Rolls Royce.
His sandwiches are dried-up and tangy and tart in all the wrong places; mine are condiments-only affairs with meat, meat, meat. From the outside, though, our sandwiches look alike (a lot of them do). That doesn’t mean I’m a racist! Some of my best friends are sandwiches.
I cut his traditionally (he’s a bit more traditional), and mine a little wonky (I’m a lot more wonky). This fits our personalities and keeps everything straight.