I have a morning routine: I’m usually up around 6, and start the morning with a breakfast sandwich. After a year of getting bacon, I’ve gone back to sausage, egg, and cheese. Between Newtown and Philly, I’ve got a rotation of about ten spots where I know the quality, the quirks, and the crowd. The Bagel Train in Yardley, though, that one is always a little strange.
A few months ago, they randomly closed Tuesday through Friday. No explanation. Last week their credit card machine was down and they were only accepting cash. Then one morning around 6:30, I walked in to find seven people ahead of me ordering dozens of bagels for an occasion I was unaware of. I don’t like waiting or surprises, and this place has proven it can deliver both. Today was another episode.
I pull in around 6:20 and see eight cars in the lot. Immediate panic. I’m picturing the line snaking out the door. But inside, it’s manageable: four people in front of me, with two middle-aged women at the front. They’re in sweatpants, clearly fresh out of bed and determined to beat me to the bagels. The cashier – one eye drifting just enough to make you unsure where he’s looking – seems slow but capable. The women are already chattering away when the guy behind the counter, who looks like he stepped out of Meet the Parents, announces that all they have is mums and they could get more mums.
The first woman orders 36 bagels. Thirty-six. I’m not exaggerating. There’s even a giant sign on the wall that says if you’re ordering more than a dozen, call ahead. How you’re supposed to know that from a sign you only see after you’ve already walked in is a mystery Bagel Train hasn’t solved. Perhaps she’s feeding Somalians who then send the bagels back to Al-Shabaab?
She places the order like each bagel is a priceless artifact.
“Hmm… I’ll take three rainbow. Do you think they’ll like rainbow? Actually, better make it two. Ummmm… two poppy. Oh, no sesame left? Okay, I’ll take twelve of them.”
She’s curating a museum exhibit, not ordering breakfast.
Meanwhile, she’s telling her friend that staying up until 11:30 p.m. is “basically the middle of the night” and she’s shocked she’s even functioning right now.
And then the next woman does the exact same thing. Back-to-back bulk bagel orders before 6:30 a.m. It felt like I was trapped in the worst horror movie ever written – Bagel Massacre: Dawn of the Carb Hoarders.
Thankfully, a second cashier wandered in and rescued the line from total collapse, but by that point I had the full Tim Robinson face going- eyes bulging, eyebrows climbing my forehead, lips pursed like I’d just witnessed a crime. I must’ve rolled my eyes so many times that if anyone in line caught even one of them, they’d have started laughing.
When I step back and ask myself whether these women were actually doing anything wrong, I land somewhere in the middle. If I were ordering sixty bagels at dawn, I’d have a typed list ready to hand the cashier like I was submitting tax documents. Maybe I’d even call ahead – radical thought.
I don’t get anxiety, exactly, but I’m hyper-sensitive to wasting other people’s time. If I can see a situation coming where I might be the bottleneck, I prepare. I streamline. I pre-optimize like I’m running logistics for UPS. That’s just who I am. Inefficiency is the devil.
I’m aware this turns me into a Type A A-hole who can’t just sit back and “enjoy the moment,” but you know what moment I don’t enjoy? Standing in a bagel line causing a traffic jam while half-awake people silently loathe me.
Would I be a happier person if I were more accepting of this behavior? More zen? More “it is what it is”? Or do I derive more joy from returning to my desk and trash-talking strangers like a cranky old man with a blog?
You know the answer.
I’ll continue to put my input of the AI generated content as I don’t pretend it’s me. This story was better than I can write it aside from this one line “Bagel Massacre: Dawn of the Carb Hoarders.” That’s not funny, but if I altered it I would probably come up with “Dumb Idiots: Suburban Women with Too Much Money”
I do write the entire post ahead of time for what that’s worth. AI’s grammar is better, it’s prose is better, it’s funnier, there’s not much of a comparison in my opinion. Curious what you guys think.
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