People

Packed spaces make me jumpy, so when I agreed to meet for breakfast at a pocket-sized café in New Haven during breakfast rush, it was like signing up for aversion therapy.

The line to the counter was nonsense all the way to the front door, which was propped open by a woman with a baby in a stroller who cheerfully told me to go ahead of her, which I did, directly into an earnest confrontation by a woman who said she didn’t know if I was aware, but stroller lady was technically ahead of me in line. What kind of a jerk do you think I am? was what I thought, but what I said was, “I know, she told me to go ahead.”   

My friend arrived at this fraught moment and asked me where the menu was.    

“On the chalkboard to the left of the bagel counter,” Earnest Buttinski said. Excuse me, but do we know you?  was what I thought, but what I said was, “So it is.”

My friend and I had scored a table on the patio when I heard my name called to the counter for pick-up.

The counter was a stew of identical paper bags stapled closed with their receipts. I knew one of them had to be mine but since I didn’t have my glasses, I was forced to stand there squinting at every receipt until a familiar voice said, “Yours is right there.”

Some people can’t take a hint, am I right? It took me three times before it finally dawned on me, and I finally said exactly what was on my mind. It was delightful, like a small wall came down, when I said,” Thanks.”