I just let somebody believe that we had sold our last everything bagel.

We didn’t.

I want to take it home for lunch.



Bagel Poetry

One of my favorite regulars talks like his life is a poetry slam. Even if he’s not rhyming, his cadence is rhythmic and his voice sounds like a Bob Dylan song.

Today was my favorite so far. He held out two bagels and said:

I’ll have these

Toasted please

With cream cheese.


*cue finger snaps*