The People I Saw at Panera Bread: A Cast of Characters

Obligatory Hipster Chick
Female, early 20s, must be wearing thick black glasses without a prescription and some kind of decorative scarf, despite the fact that it is 80 degrees outside. Preferably accompanied by EMO DUDE wearing tight pants who has far too much facial hair.

Man With No Neck
Male, 30s, far too skinny for his own good, appears to be in a perpetual state of alarm. Could be because he cannot decide what to order. More likely it is because he has no neck.

Guy who looks like Steve Carell
Male, mid-to-late 30s, looks like Steve Carell when he's just starting to grow that funny beard in Evan Almighty. No, really, there was a guy who looks just like him, I swear.

Punk Rocker Who Seems Totally Out of Place
Male or Female, early 20s to late 40s, has several visible tattoos, dyed hair a plus. Characterized by uncomfortable body language that screams, "get me the hell out of this color-coordinated corporate dungeon."

That Cell Phone Lady
Female, 40s, enters the building while talking loudly on her cell phone about her private life. Will doubtlessly continue the conversation while placing a to-go order for LITTLE BILLY's entire soccer team, much to the chagrin of all employees and patrons in the store.

Awkward First Date Couple
Male and Female, late 20s, ordered nothing but coffee so that if things go badly today, they have an excuse to bring this rendezvous to a hasty close. Based on how MAN leans in far too close and WOMAN awkwardly glances around the building, this author has reason to believe that there will not be a date number two.

Unfortunate College Student
Female, late teens to early 20s, can be seen sitting alone behind her laptop in one corner for longer than anyone else. Accompanied by dirty tray from food she finished hours ago so as to justify her continued presence. May or may not be me.

The Levels of Purgatory

A lot of people are aware of the 9 levels of Hell, best portrayed by Daunte in his documentary "The Inferno". Yet very few are aware of the not quite as horrid 9 levels of Purgatory. I am glad to educate you on them now:

Levels 1- 3: Perpetual Annoyance

Levels 1-3 are for those of us who got the whole religion multiple choice test just a little wrong (ie those who don't believe the hokey pokey really is what it's all about, or who don't like the Beatles), thought the jimmy fund dish was the leave - a - penny, take - a - penny dish, or just had a really crappy day when they died.

Level 1: The Doctor's Waiting Room

In this level you are sentenced to wait for your spot in your respective promised land in a regular, completely full, Doctor's waiting room. There will be a TV set to, and only to, PBS Local progamming. The magazines will consists only of hunting and housekeeping magazines, as well as a medical journal. All of said books will have mysterious water spots and rips. The room will be obnoxiously colored, and will contain screaming ADHD children, highly contagious flu victims, and at least 2 guys who just don't look right. The room will have obnoxious lighting, and the other patients will have a highly noticable habit of scratching off their dry skin, picking their noses, finger tapping, and hacking up mucus. You will have no food with the exception of what you have on you, after appointment lollipops, and the other patients.

Level 2: Group Therapy with Celebrity Hosts 

In order to prepare you for your hopeful ascension, this level will review the most mundane aspects of your past life and have them over analyzed on international cross- after life - realm TV. Guests analysts will include Dr. Phil, the women from The View, Rachel Ray, Tony Danza, Dr. Ruth, Wolf Blitzer, John Madden, and Marv Albert.

Level 3: "omigod becky"

In the far edge of the first three levels, you will be sentenced to a middle school girls locker room and must help solve every girl that enters's problem, including why trish is such a bitch, which shade of neon-pink hair dye they should use, if their skanky outfit is too skanky, why all rob thinks about is football and food, why the cafeteria food is so bad, why does she have to get her period now why......

Levels 4 - 6: Perpetual Awkwardness

Level 4: The Perpetual Morning After

You will wake up every morning in this level of purgatory. However, each morning you wake up, your situation will be increasingly more strange and absurd. From rolling over to a bad one night stand who just happens to be yours best friend to rolling over to find a decapitated horse, to waking up with a three ring circus conducted by Ronald Reagan and Donald Duck in full swing in your bedroom.

Level 5: The Starring Contest Tournament

You will be pitted up against other purgatory guests as well as guest players for a chance to get to heaven. However, the final rounds consists of starring contest with Stevie Wonder, Ray Charles, Charles Manson, a completely nude Popeye the Sailorman, Pennywise, and finally the Keeper of the Crypt.

Level 6: Kafka

In this level, you will be transformed into a cockroach unbeknownst to your family and friends and have a existential meltdown day after day. 

Levels 7 - 9: Hell's next-door neighbors: The levels bordering sanity

Level 7: The In-Flight Movie

In this scenario, you will be forced to repeteadly watch an inflight movie on a 1 1/2 inch monitor without sound. Your movie choices will consist of Where the Red Fern Grows, Bambi, and J-lo's Gigi. While you watch the movie, an obese man will sleep on your shoulder while a 3 year old toddler repeatedly falls out of the overhead compartment onto your lap due to the constant turbulence.

Level 8: The Assasinated King

In this level, you are a great King who has a nasty habit of being assasinated every day of his life. Your assasinations will vary in interest every other day; one day you will die in your sleep naturally, the next you will be publicly stripped and put into a barrel full of nails and dragged around town by a horse.

Level 8 1/2: Small World

You will be perpetually stuck in the white room of Disney's "It's a small world ride" for all of eternity. There is some speculation that this level may be the first level of hell, but that that sick bastard Daunte actually enjoyed it.

Level 9: Leo Tolstoy and Phillip Glass

 In this most extreme level of purgatory, you will be held in a completely empty room with nothing but Leo Tolstoy's books, while the first scene of Glass's Einstien on a Beach plays repeatedly. Regardless of your best attempts, trying to kill yourself by brute head trauma with the Tolstoy books will be unsuccesful and only make our headache worse.

A confession

I believe that some day I will find a boy who likes Star Trek as much as I do.

And I am willing to wait for that day to come along.

My dad’s afraid of lima beans.

They slide off his fork.

They make him nervous.



I’m afraid of time.

It shows no signs of stopping.

It's t-10 till I lose my mind.



I want to...

Live to be 131, then go on Antiques Roadshow and ask them what I’m worth.

Own a small children’s book store.

Be bilingual.

Make a documentary.

Have 5 children.

Live in a foreign country.

Make that band.

Have tea with Hugh Grant.

Snowboard in Vermont.

Be a voiceover for a character in a disney movie.

Have a farm with horses and chickens and tractors and things.

Learn to windsurf.

Go to culinary school.

Be able to sing this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rv1Bj8_6ID4

AND this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=saOVUX6iiRM&feature=related

Build my own house.

Camp out on the quad.

Go skydiving.

Say what I mean (and mean what I say).

Spend a summer exploring somewhere new (Charleston? Portland? Santa Fe?)

Stop gaping at my grandparents and climb Kilimanjaro! 

Learn to play the piano, well-ish at least.

...I hope somehow I'll get to do it all.


Being scared of succotash would be so much simpler...

"Bondage"

‘What’s your happiest memory? Sort of like, if you wanted to conjure your patronus, what would you think of?”

“Well, I kind of think that memories are skewed by how we feel at the present time. If I’m in a good mood, then my whole life is filled with happy memories. If I’m in a bad mood, then I can’t think back to a time I was happy.”

“But there’s always that one memory that sticks out from all the rest. The time you thought to yourself, this has to be the best day of my life! Regardless of how you feel, that memory always stays with you.”

“I guess the memory that stands out for me was when I was in model congress. I was in the club for four years, but never got awards for the speeches I’d written. Then my last year, I finally won an award! I was so happy to be recognized for something that meant so much to me. It was a good day, maybe the best. What about you?”

“We went to Starbucks. I remember it was crowded, so the only seats left were the ones in the way front by the windows. I asked her, “If you could change anything about yourself, what would it be?” which brought on a series of other character revealing questions we shot back at each other. In the hour or so we were there, I felt closer to her than I did to a friend I’d known since the first grade. We walked back to school singing Simon & Garfunkel’s “Old Friends,” but stopped, remembering that we weren’t, but feeling like we were. That was when I started trusting her. That was when she became my best friend. That’s my happiest memory so far.”

( “Aw, that’s so cute!”

“Fuck you.” )

“...Did we just, bond? I didn’t think we could do that.”

“Me either man.”

I have lots of casual friends, a small group of close friends, and one best friend. It’s suddenly occurred to me that out of all these people, I’ve had conversations like this with very few of them. So, I’m setting a goal for next year, which is to hopefully get closer to my friends at school just by talking with them the way I could with you then. There are so many people I want to know better, and I only have three years left with them! I blinked, and last year was gone. Here’s to hoping the next few years will slow down a little!

A Couple Strange "Long Car Ride Rituals"

After I get bored of all the CD’s in my car, I like to play this game. It’s actually really creepy, but I’m kind of a creeper, so maybe then it’s okay? I like to look over at the person next to me and try to figure out what song they’re listening to. I watch their mouths move and see how they tap their fingers on the window sill. Then, I try to guess the song, while simultaneously watching the car in front of me and scanning the sidelines for cops. It’s kind of a talent. I mean chances are I'm almost always wrong, but it's a way to waste time. Just a couple of days ago, I was driving home from voice lessons, and I swore I saw this guy in his late 40’s/early 50’s belting out Take Me or Leave Me. It took a whole extra hour to get home that day, but it was totally worth it! I also just like watching people’s hand movements and facial expressions to guess what they’re talking about. If they're counting on their fingers, I make up whatever they're counting...frogs, people they've had sex with, books, jobs they've been fired from, divorces, horses, houses they've robbed, medications they're on, places they've been, etc. I mean, you gotta entertain yourself somehow when the traffic’s not moving!

Eyes

Our eyes meet, and I have to look away. It's like looking directly at the sun. For a moment we're both transported back to a year ago, feeling things we put in the past. Those eyes tell a story, now I can't even look that story in the eyes without wanting to run and hide. Or is that wanting to run and hide in your arms? The moment is fast, and I can barely manage to utter a few words in reply to your meaningless hello. Or is it full of meaning? Searching, once again, for signs that I feel are there. If I just dig deeper I'll understand what you really feel. What it all really meant. Were we as much as I thought we were? You leave me feeling clueless once again. Our relationship is demolished to an awkward series of "how are you"s. I turn my defenses on, afraid of what your eyes are telling me. Of what my heart is telling me when it looks into that place where our connection is held. For a moment I feel we both know each other, that we are one thought. 

The moment is past, and I'm left with my scrambling thoughts. I can barely remember anymore what it felt like to feel that connection with you. I'm lost for words to describe the feelings. All I know is that I'm frustrated and confused. I long to know more. I fear the knowing. Just another twist in the plot. Another dent on the road to somewhere. You have the inexplicable ability to keep my head rambling long after you've gone. Rambling on tangents that get me nowhere. Words that go unsaid, as always. Rambling on..and on..and on. When will it stop?

Sorry that was a bit morose :p I was just trying to sleep, and these thoughts kept floating through my head (More like pounding at my skull), so I decided the best way to finally get some sleep would be to write it down. Which I could have easily done on some paper, I guess, but now a little bit of my soul is bared for the general internet public. Kind of cool, no? :) Or extremely frightening. Whichever.

Happy August!