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Fresh City is freaking me out
It must be some sort of promotional thing. Wait, I'll back up.
Jeeze, I'm tired. I went to sleep on the late side, around 11:15 last night, but that doesn't explain it. Waking up this morning was like waking up dead. I slept on the train, and when I was walking through Ruggles, I suddenly discovered that my zipper was wide open. This was not a dream.
I mean, I'm so tired this morning that I can barely function. So I went downstairs to Fresh City to get some real coffee, non-decaf. Incidentally, the girl who implied that I was a thief doesn't seem to be there any more.
Anyway, I'm walking in a half-daze towards the pastries to see if there's anything I like. As I'm walking, one of the girls behind the counter (about fifteen feet away) smiles at me and calls out "How are you doing, sir?"
Startled, I answered "Good morning! How are you?" and continued to the pastries. There was nothing that really grabbed me, though. As I walked back to check a couple of small pastry platters by the cash register, a man in a red embroidered Fresh City jacket walked up to a customer in a business suit, said something like "Hello, sir, thanks for coming in today!" and shook his hand. I started to suspect that something was going on.
Jesus. I'm so tired that I'm actually saying these words as I type them. I probably sound insane!
Anyway, there were no pastries that interested me by the cash register. A man who was sitting nearby jumped up and asked "What are you looking for?".
"Oh...a cinnamon swirl, or an apple strudel, maybe," I said. He told the girl to bake me one, and she said it would be ready in ten minutes; then he told her that the pastry would be "on him". I thanked him, said I'd be back, and left. I'm feeling pretty freaked out, but I guess I should go back.
Weird, weird, weird. Corporate-enforced false bonhomie always makes me feel weird.
Jeeze, I'm tired. I went to sleep on the late side, around 11:15 last night, but that doesn't explain it. Waking up this morning was like waking up dead. I slept on the train, and when I was walking through Ruggles, I suddenly discovered that my zipper was wide open. This was not a dream.
I mean, I'm so tired this morning that I can barely function. So I went downstairs to Fresh City to get some real coffee, non-decaf. Incidentally, the girl who implied that I was a thief doesn't seem to be there any more.
Anyway, I'm walking in a half-daze towards the pastries to see if there's anything I like. As I'm walking, one of the girls behind the counter (about fifteen feet away) smiles at me and calls out "How are you doing, sir?"
Startled, I answered "Good morning! How are you?" and continued to the pastries. There was nothing that really grabbed me, though. As I walked back to check a couple of small pastry platters by the cash register, a man in a red embroidered Fresh City jacket walked up to a customer in a business suit, said something like "Hello, sir, thanks for coming in today!" and shook his hand. I started to suspect that something was going on.
Jesus. I'm so tired that I'm actually saying these words as I type them. I probably sound insane!
Anyway, there were no pastries that interested me by the cash register. A man who was sitting nearby jumped up and asked "What are you looking for?".
"Oh...a cinnamon swirl, or an apple strudel, maybe," I said. He told the girl to bake me one, and she said it would be ready in ten minutes; then he told her that the pastry would be "on him". I thanked him, said I'd be back, and left. I'm feeling pretty freaked out, but I guess I should go back.
Weird, weird, weird. Corporate-enforced false bonhomie always makes me feel weird.