I went to Noah’s Bagels this morning to get a muffin.
It was Tuesday morning, and business was pretty slow. I placed my order with the cashier, gave my name, then took three steps backward to wait.
A minute later, the woman who prepares the orders placed a bag on the counter. She looked at the name on the slip. “Terry!” she called out.
Although I was the only one waiting, I didn’t move. I’m not Terry.
The order lady walked back to her workstation and started wiping off the counter with a rag. She had no more orders to prepare. By this point, I should’ve realized that the bag on the counter probably contained my muffin.
A minute later, the order lady saw that the bag was still sitting there, and I was still standing there, waiting. One bag, one customer, no pending orders. She took another look at the order slip.
“Serry?” she said. “Ferry?”
I still didn’t move.
Then, the cashier walked over and took a look at her own handwriting. “Jerry!” she said.
I took three steps forward and picked up the bag.
Inside was my muffin.