Bagel Guy

This morning as I pulled into the parking space at the front door of the local Big Company name brand bagel shop, I spotted a guy on the inside who was sitting oddly close to the door. He locked in on me. Great. Of course, I stared back as I casually approached the door.

He sported white socks tucked into light brown leather loafers, khaki shorts and a matching khaki shirt. His torso hunched forward, elbows propped on the table, both hands gripping the bagel which hovered in front of his unshaven face. Then he opened his oral orifice and took a large bite out of his dainty bagel. Once his teeth gripped the poor thing, he tore his head to one side ripping a large portion of the bagel away from his hands. Then with one chop, the huge hunk of dough disappeared.

I couldn’t help thinking I was walking into the entrance of a cave and was witnessing a Cro-Magnon man tear meat and tendons off the bloody toe joint of a wooly mammoth. Feeling a bit gassy, I strategically dropped a silent killer as I walked past him.

I patiently waited for a cough and even glanced back to catch a glimpse of his wincing face. But I was disappointed. What went wrong? Oh, man! What if some how, instead of offending, he considered my silent attack a silent delight? In my morning haze, I misjudged. Now I’ve probably created some type of prehistoric bond with the door guard. I hope he isn’t there tomorrow.