It has been a long time since I
visited Char Mar, Hopkins' overpriced market, and it has been even longer since I last ate breakfast. A
sophomore friend, richly endowed with dining dollars, has graciously agreed to
buy me a bagel. The time is about 9:52 a.m. We hurry to get there as it is rush
hour; students done with their 9 a.m. class or late for their 10 a.m. one are
all craving a delicious bagel right now. By the time we get there, the line is
about 12 people long and I curse our luck at having to walk all the way from
Bloomberg.
My
friend tries to start a conversation with me. I pretend to care but my mind is filled
with the thought of the appetizing bagel I shall soon be eating. She mentions
something about how every other girl carries the same tote bag nowadays and
points out two girls in line with identical totes. Preoccupied with rehearsing
my order (a honey whole wheat bagel with jalapeno cream cheese) in my head, I
assure her that her sense of fashion is impeccable. She realizes I am barely
listening.
It
is finally my turn to order. The nice lady at the counter, Debbie, greets me
with a smile. “What would you like this morning, honey?” The five minute wait
before I get my bagel feels closer to fifteen. Ignoring my friend’s judgmental look,
I bite into my bagel even before we reach the dining area. It is every bit as
delicious as I had hoped. Finally satisfied, I turn to my friend with a cheeky smile.
“So what was it you were saying about the totes?”
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