Thus is the saga of the Chicken Parmesan Sandwich

I grew up on the east coast where Chicken Parmesan sandwiches are plentiful and abundant, even stereotypically available on every menu. While not my favorite sandwich, I would have the odd craving once or twice a year. A craving that was easily remedied by going into just about any place that served food and getting a piece of this delicious treat. This culinary treat has been impossible to find in Arizona. I've gone so far as to explain to sub shop employees how it's made:

Typical Conversation:
Me: I want a Chicken Parmesan sandwich
Sub Man: I don't know what that is.
Me: I want a breaded chicken sandwich.
Sub Man: OK, what do you want on that?
Me: Tomato sauce and cheese, toasted please
Sub Man: Sorry, we can't do that.
Me: But you have sauce, I can see it, just take the sauce from the meatballs, and put it on the chicken. Put a piece of provolone on it, and toast it.
Sub Man: I can put the cheese on it and toast it. But I can't put the sauce on it.
Me: OK, then I want a meatball sandwich, without the meatballs.
Sub Man: So just sauce and cheese?
Me: Yes
Sub Man: OK, what do you want on that?
Me: Breaded chicken
Sub Man: I can't do that.

And so ends the saga of the Chicken Parmesan Sandwich.