Before
the
Portland
inflatable
frog,
there
was
the
D.C.
Sandwich
Guy.
Sean
Dunn,
a
Department
of
Justice
paralegal,
became
a
symbol
of
resistance
for
flinging
his
Subway
sandwich
at
a
Customs
and
Border
Patrol
agent,
Greg
Lairmore,
occupying
D.C.
as
part
of
the
Trump
administration’s
martial
law
test
run.
Dunn
lost
his
job
with
the
DOJ,
but
avoided
indictment
when
the
grand
jury
responded
with
a
no
bill
issued
between
fits
of
laughter.
This
allowed
every
lawyer
in
America
to
collectively
make
a
crack
about
being
able
to
indict
a
ham
sandwich
as
the
nation
groaned
from
an
overdose
of
lawyer
dad
joke
energy.
But
the
Trump
administration
had
piled
too
much
onto
this
case
to
let
it
go
—
including
a
bizarre
hype
video
about
arresting
Dunn
as
though
he
was
the
Zodiac
killer
and
not
“guy
who
threw
some
bread.”
And
so
they’ve
moved
forward
with
a
misdemeanor
charge.
Because
if
they
thought
earning
a
no
bill
was
an
embarrassment,
why
not
test
your
luck
with
a
12
Angry
D.C.
citizens?
In
the
intervening
months,
did
you
take
a
second
to
consider
what
the
testimony
would
sound
like
in
a
trial
about
criminally
charging
someone
for
tossing
a
sandwich?
Because
you
know
who
didn’t
think
about
that:
the
Department
of
Justice.
That
trial
began
today
—
the
day
after
National
Sandwich
Day,
mind
you
—
and
the
testimony
did
not
disappoint.
A
Huffington
Post
reporter
covered
the
proceedings.
Slow
violin
music,
“My
dearest
Emily,
me
and
the
boys
took
hell
this
morning.
Sandwiches
everywhere.
I
scarcely
believe
I
can
eat
mustard
again.”
The
prosecution
has
an
overarching
strategy
to
litter
the
proceedings
with
more
deadly
sounding
jargon.
Responding
to
the
motion
to
dismiss,
prosecutors
said
Dunn
was
“recorded
throwing
a
sandwich
at
a
federal
officer
at
point-blank
range”
suggesting
sandwiches
become
especially
deadly
at
some
specific
distance.
In
line
with
this
effort
to
drum
up
testimony
that
sounded
ominous
without
being
a
blatant
lie,
the
trial
prep
clearly
landed
on
the
phrase
“kind
of
exploded”
to
help
dupe
jurors
into
thinking
this
was
an
IED
in
Fallujah
and
not
a
$5
footlong
on
U
street.
Shady,
but
nonetheless
competent
work.
While
they
were
high-fiving
over
this
rhetorical
coup,
I
want
to
believe
Lairmore
said,
“Oh,
I
also
could
smell
the
onions
and
mustard…
should
I
tell
the
jury
that?”
and
the
prosecutors
shrugged
and
said,
“Sure,
knock
yourself
out.”
If
mustard
is
spicy
enough,
it
can
burn.
Not
like
napalm,
but…
it
might
clear
your
sinuses.
Does
that
matter
in
this
case?
George
Conway
weighs
in:
If
you
thought
this
would
mark
the
end
of
the
embarrassingly
stupid
testimony,
you
would
be
wrong.
The
defense
got
an
opportunity
to
cross-examine
the
witness
and
tried
using
a
photograph
to
refresh
his
recollection.
Or
should
I
say
“re-Eat
fresh
his
recollection?”
I
shouldn’t.
Cue
it
up…
So
much
for
the
chain
of
custody.
It’s
an
important
line
of
questioning,
because
to
the
extent
the
prosecution
slapped
themselves
on
the
back
for
describing
the
sandwich
as
“exploded,”
the
photographic
evidence
suggests
the
Sandwich
Artists
over
at
Subway
did
a
much
better
job
than
the
government
would
have
you
believe.
No,
that’s
superior
wrapping
and
excellent
sticky
condiment
distribution.
Over
the
objection
of
the
prosecution,
the
defense
also
dug
into
how
Lairmore
has
managed
to
move
on
after
his
brush
with
flavor.
Truly
a
grim
tale
of
anguish
and
shock.
That
certainly
doesn’t
sound
like
an
officer
suffering
from
a
vicious
assault.
But
PTSD
can
manifest
in
different
ways.
Hopefully,
he’s
not
moving
to
any
small
Pacific
Northwest
towns
any
time
soon.
And
if
he
does…
let’s
just
hope
it’s
a
Jimmy
John’s
town.
Joe
Patrice is
a
senior
editor
at
Above
the
Law
and
co-host
of
Thinking
Like
A
Lawyer.
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