Subway is like most of the really huge fast food chains. It's cheap, quick, uniform, and "fine". No, it isn't great food. But it's ok. It won't make you sick (Jokes about Taco Bell aside, it won't), it won't shock you with bizarre flavors or ingredients, it will be prepared a predictable way, etc. It has a certain genericized bland inoffensiveness that means virtually nobody will hate it, and
most people will "like" it
to some extent. You know what you're getting, and you can get the same thing anywhere in America. A mall, an airport, or some small town on the road between Here and There that nobody has ever heard of and has a population measured in three digits. I can go to virtually
any town in America (And a lot of other countries besides) and be assured of finding the same 2-5 franchises, depending on how small we're talking - a McDonalds, a Subway, a Taco Bell, a KFC, a Pizza Hut. Any other chain? Maybe, maybe not - even Wendy's, Arbys, Burger King, and Dominos can be a little bit hit or miss, but those five?
Everywhere. And after the second tier, it goes waaaay down. If I'm traveling outside of my "home" region, all the second-tier fast food places change. I can't get Bojangles chicken if I go much further north, just like I can't get Jets pizza here, to my sadness.
And most people? Most people, in my experience, aren't adventurous. If they're just wanting a quick, cheap bite, they're going to go for things they know. They know Subway. They know McDonalds. They know KFC.
Everyone knows those places.
Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson dijo:
The franchise and the virus work on the same principle: what thrives in one place will thrive in another. You just have to find a sufficiently virulent business plan, condense it into a three-ring binder—its DNA—xerox it, and embed it in the fertile lining of a well-traveled highway, preferably one with a left-turn lane. Then the growth will expand until it runs up against its property lines.
In olden times, you'd wander down to Mom's Cafe for a bite to eat and a cup of joe, and you would feel right at home. It worked just fine if you never left your home-own. But if you went to the next town over, everyone would look up and stare at you when you came in the door, and the Blue Plate Special would be something you didn't recognize. If you did enough traveling, you'd never feel at home anywhere.
But when a businessman from New Jersey goes to Dubuque, he knows he can walk into a McDonald's and no one will stare at him. He can order without having to look at the menu, and the food will always taste the same. McDonald's is Home, condensed into a three-ring binder and xeroxed. “No surprises” is the motto of the franchise ghetto, its Good Housekeeping seal, subliminally blazoned on every sign and logo that make up the curves and grids of light that outline the Basin.