Lazy Sunday

I went to bed late Saturday night following a raucous birthday party for slcup that involved roller skating*, miniature golf, and heavy arcade action. Consequently, I woke up late on Sunday. Moments after waking, I dressed, grabbed the current issue of The New Yorker and the book I'm currently reading, and walked to the Avenues Bakery for breakfast. I don't often go to the bakery on weekends, but occasionally go before work on weekdays. For some reason, this restaurant attracts a seemingly "East Coast" clientele - transplants to Utah, I guess. As I approached the entry door, I could see people were waiting to be seated. Entering right behind me was a middle-aged woman in black leggings, a leopard print fleece, large sunglasses and exuding an east coast, Jewish air. I suspected she had just come from a light workout at the nearby JCC. I walked in and immediately inside was a sign clearly stating, "Please Wait for Hostess to Seat You." Various groups were standing just inside the door waiting to be seated. I stood with them waiting to register my presence with the hostess. But Ms. JCC had her own plan.

She walked in the door right behind me, flew passed the sign and the people waiting to be seated, and headed straight to the take-out counter. She spoke with a guy standing at the counter, and he pointed her toward the hostess who was clearing a table right in front of me and the other people waiting to be seated. She walked over to the hostess, said a word or two, and then sat down at the table. The people waiting to be seated saw this, rolled their eyes, and let it go. But I didn't.

I walked over to the hostess, who was still at the table with Ms. JCC, and said: "These people behind me were here before this woman, and really they should be seated first." Ms. JCC pointed to the guy at the take-out counter and said, "I just did what he told me to do. He said I needed to talk to you and I did." Bullshit. Ms. JCC knew exactly what she was doing: bypassing the line. And the ease with which she'd done it indicated that it wasn't her first time, nor was it her first time playing dumb when caught. I told Ms. JCC that she should stand up and let the hostess seat the people that were ahead of her in line. Again, she said that she'd only done what the guy at the take out counter told her to do. The hostess quickly took charge of the situation and handled it well. She had Ms. JCC stand up, seated the people that were there before Ms. JCC (they all thanked me for intervening) , and then finally seated Ms. JCC (she didn't like me) and her husband (he came in after having parked the car). As for me, I'd hoped to sit at the counter facing the windows that look out over South Temple, but there wasn't an open seat. So I left and walked a block down the street to Oasis (they have better coffee anyway). As I walked, I hoped that I'd caused Ms. JCC just enough embarrassment that it ruined her breakfast, and as I read the New Yorker and 740 Park, I was glad to have had a seemingly east coast morning.

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*Sadly, the roller rink dj did not have the quintessential roller skating song:
We Built this City mp3