The Bakery

Todd needs to pick up 13 batches of cookies to deliver to 13 clients.

Todd approached the bakery on Main Street slowly, quickly trying to find parking on the street. A line of cars behind him immediately began to honk at him for deccelerating. Todd attempted to fit his 4-door sedan into a car-sized gap between two other parked cars but gave up as parallel parking was never his strong point. He continued to drive, made the first right he could, and parked on a side-street just a few storefronts down from the bakery.

Entering the Italian bakery caused Todd’s nostrils to fill with the scent of hand-crafted pastries and sweets. Any other person would have enjoyed this, but it was “just too much” for Todd - he was not a fan of pastries or sweets. His own desires did not bring him to this small mom-and-pop shop. Todd was being paid off-the-books from the business he normally does telemarketing at to pick up twelve batches of holiday cookies and deliver them to his businesses twelve highest-end clients.

Ernesto, the owner of the shop, greeted Todd as if he was an old friend (he had never actually met Todd before but a business like his rarely sees customers in general so he was down-right happy to see Todd walk in).

After the pleasantries Ernesto began to pull out the packaged batches of cookies that Todd would then take to the car. Ernesto produced them faster than Todd expected he would. Todd would run back and forth from the store to the car loading up his back-seat with the treats. In the midst of all the haste he counted twelve baskets of cookies, which checked out in his mind.

Todd paid the shop-owner for the twelve batches and as he signed the receipt the man asked him a question which caught him off guard.

“What would you like to take home for yourself, my friend?”

Todd realized the man was offering him a gift. Todd was never very good with gifts. He declined.

But Ernesto pressed Todd. He seemed to take Todd’s rejection of the gift personally. “Do you not like my baking?” he asked with his heavy accent.

Todd was quickly getting tired of this dance but he did not want to offend the man. “I just don’t eat baked goods, really,” Todd assured him.

The man made a face at this, a face which said if he was outside and not in his own shop he would have spat on the ground at this idea.

After this conversation Todd said his goodbyes and thank yous to the bakery owner and returned to the car he had filled with the platters of cookies. Sitting down in the driver’s seat he suddenly realized that he had to urinate. Holding it in until he got to the first client, which was 45 minutes away was not an option and the more he thought about it the less holding it in it all seemed like an option. He thought back to the bakery and his memory was clear enough to confirm that there was no restroom in there. There were, however, many other stores on the same strip located after the shop that potentially had restrooms for Todd to use. He decided this was his best (and only) option and got out of the vehicle.

His legs pumped faster than his normal walking speed as he passed the bakery he was previously in. His eyes were focused on the stores ahead that he did not peer into the large dirty glass window that showcased the inside of the store-front. On the other side, though, Ernesto happened to be looking out and caught a glimpse of Todd walking past in the opposite direction of his car.

“Guy’s Deli” read the 50’s-style neon sign at the store next to Ernesto’s bakery, and Todd entered the place. As soon as he entered he peered around - stained linoleum floors, yellowed wallpaper, large dirty mirrors reflecting meat every which way, and a white door with a plastic “Restroom” sign. Todd headed for it like a gun-shot, but was stopped by a man’s voice.

“Hey,” a man with an Asian accent shouted. “Restrooms are for customers only”. He declared this from behind the deli counter.

Todd could not resist nature’s call. “Fine fine fine,” Todd announced impatiently. He grabbed a pack of gum from the counter, then pulled out his wallet. He looked inside the main pocket and saw he had no cashed, so naturally he reached for his credit card and handed it to him.

“Five dollar minimum,” the guy (named Guy) said as he rejected Todd’s card.

“Come on,” Todd implored at not the man in front of him but the universe itself. “I can’t spend 5 dollars just to use the bathroom”. He was normally a very frugal person but as he considered the alternatives to the current situation it seemed like he would have to cough up the cash. “Fine, what’s the easiest thing I can get for five dollars?”

Guy replied with simply, “muffin”.

Todd accepted with no hesitation, watched the deli owner ring up his card while he danced on his toes to keep his urine in his bladder, and then dived for the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom was uneventful for Todd. Everything came out of his body properly, and the bathroom was presentable enough that he found no glaring flaws. After flushing and washing his hands he exited the bathroom to find a warm muffin with butter on it ready for him. Now that there was no urine pressing against the flood-gates of his bladder he resented the muffin and the five dollars wasted on it. He took it with a huff and offered no warm goodbyes to the deli man.

As he walked out of the deli he looked down at the muffin. As stated before, he normally does not eat baked goods. The muffin did look delicious as it steamed and melted the butter into a liquid which it absorbed. And who was Todd to waste 5 dollars? So, Todd bit into the food as he started back towards his car.

Again he found himself in front of the bakery but stopped when the glass door swung open. Ernesto exited with his arms crossed and approached Todd looking like some sort of loan-shark or mafiosa.

“I thought you do not like baked goods,” Ernesto rhetorically asked Todd.

Todd managed to sneak a guttural sounded out pasted all the chewed muffin in his mouth, but it didn’t help his case.

“It’s not baked goods that you don’t like, it’s Ernesto’s baked good you don’t like, huh?” Ernesto’s tone wasn’t so much offended as it was defensive and hostile.

Todd attempted to chew and swallow quickly to verbally defend himself, but he was not fast enough.

Ernesto’s hands flew in every which direction as he spoke furiously at Todd. “My baking is the best and you tell me you don’t want it!” His anger was palpable.

Todd finally swallowed the muffin. “You don’t understand-”.

“I understand! I treat you well and offer you free food, and you insult me!”

Growing concerned that Ernesto will only get more angry, and that nothing Todd could say would calm him down, he decided his best option was to flee. “I have to go. I’m sorry.” He brushed past Ernesto and speed walked away.

“I’m sorry that I helped you! You do not know good baking! You don’t deserve my cookies.”

Ernesto’s angry words faded as Todd took off back to his car. He could tell that the more and more Ernesto spoke, the more and more angry he became, but he made not attempt to pursue Todd.

Once in the car Todd locked his door and took a moment to breath calmly. He was parked around the corner so even though he heard Ernesto’s muffled, distant cursing, the man was not in eye-shot. He looked into his back seat and again felt some sort of resentment for the food he had purchased sitting behind him. Twelve batches of holiday cookies for twelve different clients. He listened again for Ernesto and this time heard nothing but silence. His mind was clear from the commotion now and put the key into the ignition.

As if on cue with the noise of the engine firing on, Todd came to a startling realization. He turned his head to the back-seat and counted the batches of cookies again. Twelve batches. The entire time he was working with Ernesto in the assembly-line fashion he was set on twelve batches of cookies, but only now he realized that he needed thirteen for his thirteen clients. The realization that he would have to go back to the bakery and face the aggressive Ernesto struck him like a tragedy. If he didn’t do it he would be failing to properly do his job - his boss was counting on him to deliver the cookies to each and every one of the thirteen clients. If he did go back in…

His thoughts were interrupted when from the corner of his eye he saw the reflection of something in his rear-view mirror. He turned his head to look out the back of his car, and he saw a fuming Ernesto power walking towards him. There was a long object in the volatile man’s hand. Squinting, Todd recognized it to be a baseball bat.

Todd thought quickly and immediately put the car into drive and hit the gas. The car zoomed away from Ernesto. Ernesto screamed at the fleeing vehicle, but Todd couldn’t hear it. While he continued to accelerate down the block he watched through the mirror Ernesto swinging at the air and shouting. Though he was already hundreds of feet away from the angry man, Todd continued speeding the vehicle down the block until Ernesto faded from his view. Finally making it to a red-light a safe distance away from the bakery, Todd put the car into park and stopped to catch his breath. Thought it wasn't the first thing in mind he later decided to stop at a different bakery to pick up a replacement for the thirteenth forgotten tray of cookies.