Wednesday, August 29, 2012


i walked into my favorite coffee shop to get my regular breakfast: a blueberry bagel toasted dark-ish, with a small coconut iced coffee. i loved it in there. best coffee in town, even though i knew nothing about coffee. best coffee in town, i tell you. i walked up to the counter in a jovial mood, feeling like i had established a rapport with the counter lady in the last couple weeks. i briefly thought i would say "i'll have the regular" but this seemed risky and i didn't want to come off like some asshole who had deemed themselves memorable. "i'll have a blueberry bagel toasted dark with a small iced coffee," i said. "we don't have any blueberry bagels," she said. "oh no, you ran out?" i said, trying to think of other bagels that might do. "no," she said. "we don't carry blueberry bagels." "ohh. i've been getting a blueberry bagel here almost every day for the past two weeks," i said. "pretty sure we've never had blueberry bagels," she reiterated. i felt vaguely uneasy, like maybe i was in a stephen king novel and i would go back to my apartment and it would be all boarded up or turned into a movie theater or an unfriendly senile woman would live there. i ordered a wheat bagel and ate it in my car in the hot parking lot. a loud truck pulled into the parking lot and a dozen birds flew from the dumpster, charging the sky in a synchronized fury of wings. i knew that they would never have blueberry bagels again

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