Today at Panera’s I had the most delicious cafe mocha. After taking my first sip, I stared at the cup in disbelief. I had also ordered a chocolate croissant to complement the mocha, and had I known how delicious the mocha was going to be, I would not have ordered the croissant. I digress. Let us continue with the story.
So, there I was – really impressed with the froth on my mocha and the perfect amount of chocolate syrup. I began to neglect the croissant, only taking one bite every five minutes.
Then, a stranger approached. He mumbled something about whether I was done with my croissant. I nodded, and he started to take my plate with the croissant away.
For some reason, I thought, “He is taking my croissant because he is hungry. He is going to eat my croissant, and I should let him eat it, because I’m not particularly interested in it.”
A second later, because I am sharp as a tack, it dawned on me that he was a bus-boy, and he was taking my half croissant to throw it away. I leaped out of my chair, reached for the croissant, and said, “No no no no no! I’m not done eating that,” and rescued the bland and inferior-to-the-mocha croissant from a fate worse than being eaten by me.