A bakery nearby perfumes the neighborhood with the most magnificent aromas of cinnamon and baking bread. I had to have a loaf! So I joined the enormously long queue stretching out the door and down the block.
What was taking so long? When I neared the bakery’s door half an hour later — while wondering whether the bread, however delectable, was worth all this — I saw shoeless customers bunched inside the shop. What in the heck?
Then, through the large glass windows, I watched the patron about to buy the best sourdough on the planet shrug out of her jacket. She emptied the pockets of her jeans, too. A clerk emerged from behind the counter to fondle her chest, then ordered, “Gitcher feet apart!”
Ok, I’m outa here. I don’t care how irresistible the bread is.7:10 am on November 21, 2010 Email Becky Akers