Hello Pod Squad! I'm thinking that should be our collective name from now on. If anyone has any other ideas, please feel free to chime in!
This is a little story that I started at Juniper and have completed it with all the edits I received during workshopping. Enjoy!
A Bacon Scramble and Some Burned Croissants
“Can I have medium coffee and a bacon scramble, please?” I look up from the counter.
“Sure,” I smile. “Are you going to be eating it here or to-go?” He looks like he’s in a hurry. I’m guessing to-go. I study the man’s face. I’ve seen him here before, lurking around the bakery. He’s never actually come up the counter to order though. I’ve actually been dying to talk to him, so today is my lucky day.
“Umm,” he pauses, looking at me as he runs his fingers through his hair, “I’ll eat it here, actually. I had somewhere to go, but why not enjoy a nice sit down breakfast once in a while?”
I decide not to ask where he was supposed to go. I’m sure it was to go have breakfast with his girlfriend. “Good call. It’s always nice to have a good breakfast. Is this your first time here?” I ask. His hair is still slightly tousled from his fingers. Don’t touch it, Lily. Resist temptation.
“Relatively,” he answers. “I mean, I live here on the Cape, but I haven’t been here in a while. I just stick to my little circle.” I give him a questioning look. He continues quickly, “I’m an architect and book writer, so I spend a lot of time either away from the Cape or looking at houses, or in the studio. Or, just my house. But, I was out of cereal and seemingly every other breakfast food in my house, so I decided to come into town and grab something.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” I say. “That’ll be $15, please.” I can’t tell if his skin is as tan as I think it is, or it’s just his white polo shirt.
“Do you take American Express?” he asks. I nod and he hands over a gold card.
“This is a Visa,” I say. “Would you still like to use this, or would you prefer your AmEx?”
“Oh,” he seems a touch flustered. “The what?”
“The AmEx,” I say, trying not to make him feel bad. “American Express?”
“Oh, of course! Sorry, I’m a little slow this morning. Haven’t had my coffee, you know?” he musters a little laugh and switches the cards.
“Of course. We have excellent coffee here, if I do say so myself.” I slide the card, and read the name on the receipt. “Thank you Mr. Brooks. Your food will be out in just a minute. Here’s your coffee” I say as I hand him his receipt, card, pen and coffee cup.
“Thank you.” he smiles (a sort of awkward, kind smile) at me as he grabs his receipt and shoves it in his pocket.
“Have a nice day” I say.
“You too,” he calls as he smiles and sits down at a table near the register.
“Lily, order up!” Alex yells. I walk over to the kitchen. “That was a good looking guy that you were just chatting with. Seemed like you two were having a nice time,” she whispers. “He looks sort of like a mix up of Ryan Gosling, John F. Kennedy because of the peppiness and a little splash of John Krasinski due to his slight awkwardness. If I were you, I’d tap that.”
“Alex!” I whisper to quiet her. “I need to keep it professional with the customers.”
“Ok, don’t deny it. You were checking him out. I saw you blush a little when he ran his fingers through his sandy locks.”
“You noticed that?” I quickly say.
“So it is true!” she’s delighted.
“No, I’m just saying he was very nice.” I say innocently.
“Sure, and if by nice you mean undeniably sexy, then you are completely correct.”
“Alex, he was a nice guy. I’m a nice girl. We had a two minute conversation. That’s all. He is attractive and slightly awkward,” I glance over to him. He’s reading a newspaper. “I’ll give you that, but honestly, there were no sparks. Besides, given my track record, he most likely has a girlfriend and just decides to not tell me about it until we are both invested in the relationship.” I’m obviously lying about how attractive I think he is and she knows it. Also, knowing my luck, he probably has a girlfriend and is just talking to me so he can feel masculine and like he can get any girl he wants.
“Fine, then you won’t mind taking his bacon scramble over to him, would you? I know that’s normally my section, but I need to pull a few croissants together for another customer,” She says with a wink.
“Fine,” I say as I take his plate. I quickly reach into my pocket and pull some lip gloss out. I brush it over my lips. I can’t say I don’t want to talk to him a little bit more.
I walk over to his table. “Hello again,” I say as I set down the plate. He flicks down his newspaper quickly, like I surprised him. The smile returns. “Here’s your bacon scramble.”
“Thank you! That looks really good.” He says.
“Enjoy,” I say and turn around.
“Wait,” he says. “I have a quick question for you.”
“Sure,” I say.
“You called me Mr. Brooks. How do you know my name?” He asked.
“The name on your AmEx- American Express said Carter F. Brooks, so I just assumed that was your name,” I said.
“Right,” he pauses and a look of I’m so awkward flashes over his face. “So then, we seem to have a problem.”
“I’m sorry; I didn’t realize there was a problem? Is it with the scramble?” I ask, confused.
“No, no, I’m sure the scramble is really good. It’s just that you know my name and I don’t know yours. Which is a huge problem.”
“I still don’t understand why it’s a problem,” I say. Did I seriously just say that? This guy is darling, Lily! “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be so blunt. I meant to say, um, I am just unclear as to why you would like to know my name. You said yourself that you don’t often stop by, and I’m just wondering as to your motives.”
He seems a little taken aback by my second remark. Alex was right, he literally was a mash up of Ryan Gosling’s looks (to a lesser extent), JFK and John Krasinski. Especially John Krasinski.
“Fine,” he says and his eyes drift from my face to my chest. Typical. I turn, and he says quickly, “So, Lily, huh? Do you, um, like, lilies?” he asks.
I look at him. “What does that have to do with anything?” I ask. Personally, I prefer peonies, why is he asking me about flowers?
“Well, perhaps a better question would be, do you have a significant other?” he asks. “By the way, I was just asking about lilies because I noticed that it’s your name.”
“What?” I quickly regain my composure. Where is this guy headed? “No, I’m not.”
“A boyfriend?” he asks again.
“Negative,” Please, Carter F. Brooks, quit asking me about my personal life. It’s too alluring. I feel myself teetering on an invisible tightrope, happiness and emotions on one side, deflection and isolation on another. “If you don’t mind, I should probably get back to the counter,” I try to leave again.
“So, you are free?”
I turn back to face him. He’s smiling a more confident smile right now, like he’s caught me. I gently ease myself into the answer, “Yes, for all intensive purposes, I am “free”. But, you have a girlfriend, so I am still unclear as to what you hope to encounter by asking me this. ”
“What?” now he says this.
“What about what?” I say. What is he asking me about? Now I’m confused.
“You said I have a girlfriend. Why would I have a girlfriend if I’m talking to you?” he asks.
“Well, you said you had somewhere to be this morning, so I just assumed it was to go have breakfast with your girlfriend. And, besides, I’m just a waitress here,” I tell him.
“First of all, you’re not “just a waitress,” and second of all, I definitely don’t have a girlfriend. If I did, I wouldn’t have come in here about ten times in the last two weeks to come and hang out here hoping to see you!” he says. A look of what the hell did I just say? I really screwed up this time. I might as well go crawl in a hole and die.
So he was lurking around! Hang on…
“Ummm,” I’m a little unsure how to respond. “Well, enjoy the scramble!” I turn and try to make my escape.
“Wait,” I turn back around again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that. What I actually meant to do was ask you out. As I’ve already told you,” he awkwardly laughs a little, obviously uncomfortable, “I’ve actually wanted to ask you out for a while. But, today I finally came up to the counter. And there you were.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so hopeful. Or possibly desperate. I look over to the kitchen. Alex is watching this whole scene go down. She catches me looking at her, and she enthusiastically nods.
“Mr. Brooks, I really think,” I begin.
“I’m Carter. I’m your age, and calling me Mr. Brooks makes me feel like an old man,” he says.
“Alright, well, Carter, then” his name sounds strangely natural out of my mouth, “I think I should just keep work and personal separate.” Wait, Lily, this isn’t what you want at all! He doesn’t have a girlfriend! This is perfect! Go for it!
A look of disappointment rushes over his face. He looks like I just snatched the last cookie from the cookie jar. He looks down, grabs his fork and jams it into the bacon scramble then pops it in his mouth. “The scramble is really good,” he says.
I turn to leave. Wait, Lily, say something!
“I burned the chocolate croissants this morning and still served them!” I yell at him. What did I just say? Not “You’re my perfect guy,” or “The bacon scramble is my favorite item on the menu, too, and you don’t have a girl friend, so we’re basically perfect for each other!” but I tell him about how I am a horrible person who served the burned croissants. There is no hope for me.
“What?” he asks confused. He looks slightly alarmed for a moment, and then his eyes drift from my face to my chest. I knew it.
“Nevermind,” I mutter. “Enjoy your scramble!”
(skip down to last part before asterisks)
I retreat back to the kitchen. Alex is holding a knife when I burst through the door.
“LILY! What the hell were you doing? First of all, you completely rejected him! Why would you do that? He was totally into you and you completely shut him down. This is your shot! Put away all the bad guys who have screwed you over, because, let’s be honest, you definitely need to, and go for him! I just checked, and he’s out of coffee, so get your sorry little ass back out there and apologize!” she shoves me out into the restaurant part of the bakery and hands me a coffee pot.
I serve a few other customers first before inching my way back over to his table. He is almost finished with the bacon scramble, but he’s left a few significant bites left. As if he doesn’t want to eat them just yet.
“Would you like some more coffee?” I ask.
He looks up and his eyes shift from surprise to recognition.
“Sure,” he says, then flicks back up his paper.
I pour the coffee and say, ”I’m sorry about earlier. I really had no right to assume something about you that I didn’t even know. You were just being nice and it sort of threw me for a loop.” I take a deep breath before saying, “I’ve seen you in the bakery a few times before today. I was wondering if you would ever actually come up to the counter and order something. I’m glad you did today,” I smile.
Good, Lily. See, you can be a normal person every so often.
Carter looks at me for a moment, then says, “I am too. It was finally nice to talk to you.” He smiles. With a piece of bacon between his teeth.
We smile at each other for an awkward amount of time that’s a little too long to keep things professional but a little too short for us to be communicating some type of long dialogue. But, I’m pretty sure we’re both thinking make this work, please make this work. Well, that, and I’m also thinking, “Should I tell him he has some bacon in his teeth? Would that embarrass him even more?
But, we break our eye contact and electric smiles fade and he keeps munching on his bacon scramble and I go to the next table to serve more coffee.
I walk, defeated, back to the kitchen. Alex has, of course, observed our entire exchange and is there to greet me.
“Well, at least you tried,” she says. “Any possible love connection at all?”
“Alex, I don’t think so. “Well, after that, he probably never wants to see me again, and I let a customer go. I’m sorry about that. That was completely my fault.”
“Screw customers, Lily. Well, actually, no, don’t screw them. It’s just one customer. But, what I am proud about is that you at least you went back out there to try to make things right. And if he doesn’t recognize that it takes an incredibly strong and humble person to do that, screw him. If he doesn’t see you as the amazing person you are, then it’s his loss.”
“Thanks, Alex. I appreciate it.” I say.
“Lily, we need someone at the register,” Stan, my manager, calls from the front.
“Bye,” I brush past Alex and go to the register. I look over to Carter’s table and see that he is gone, his bacon scramble all finished.
***
“Thanks so much, have a nice day,” I say to a customer the next morning. “Next, please!”
A note wrapped around a lily lands on my counter. “Lily” is scrawled on the front in a messy cursive/print hybrid. I look up at the person who has just left this, but am greeted by a botoxed mother and her small child. Definitely not who gave me this. I move the gift over to the counter.
After I serve the plastic mother and her equally frightening child, I grab the flower and the note. I open the envelope and a letter as well as two pieces of paper fall out.
“Dear Lily,” the note reads. “I think we fell into an unfortunate conversation yesterday. However, I cannot say it was successful because 1) I found out your name, 2) I know where you work and 3) I got to send you this flower. I know I basically made an idiot out of myself yesterday, but I would love to get to know you more. How does lunch tomorrow sound? Enclosed, I’ve left you two pieces of paper for you to pick from to tell me what you decide.
Sincerely,
Carter
P.S. That was the best breakfast I’ve had in a long time.”
I pick up the pieces of paper. One says, “You are such a stalker and I would never go out with you in a million years because a) you came into the bakery almost every day for a week to see me and b) you had a piece of bacon stuck between your teeth for the entire time you and I were talking” and the other says, “I’d love to, I thought you’d never ask!”. I laugh at his sense of humor. I couldn’t take the “no” one, especially after what I said to him yesterday. I grab the “I’d love to” one and tuck it under the register.
“Hello, I’d like a coffee and a bacon scramble please,” a voice says. I look up. “Oh, and which paper did you pick?”
I smile and pull the piece of paper out from under the register. He smiles back.
“Now, I have just one more question” he asks.
“Yes?” I say.
“Did you really serve burned croissants to those people yesterday?”
