Broken Cookie


I took a day off of work because I felt a tickle in my throat. I wanted to stay home and sleep it off before it turned into the wretched mucus monster that is terrorizing my coworkers nowadays. So far so good.

A day off of work does not mean a day off from coffee, so I came down to Vita to chill out a little. I got a tall americano, no room, in a diner mug. And a thick slice of blueberry loaf, which looked very minimally sugary.

The barista, who I didn’t recognize, smiled and said “Hi! Tall americano?” Whoops, I should work on recognizing people. When she went to reach for my slice of blueberry loaf with the tongs, the corner broke off. Immediately she started reaching for the next slice.

“I’ll take that slice,” I told her, cheerfully.

“Are you sure,” she asked. “It’s broken…”

“That’s the one,” I said.

“Ok,” she said. “I always check and make sure. One time I was working downtown and a lady threw her cookie back at me because it was broken in the bag.” Fresh baked cookies are not as solid as fully cooled cookies.

I think it’s ok to ask for a non broken cookie; maybe it’s a gift, maybe whole cookies are important to you, I don’t know. Could I please have an unbroken cookie? I would use those words.

I don’t think it’s ok to throw a cookie back at the person that’s serving you. Cookie wholeness is not a reasonable basis for bakery rage. I am against bakery rage.

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