In she shuffles, dour faced and slouching. She trudges up to the pastry, sandwich and fruit bowl-laden food case, and asks the barista “Got anything to eat?” And this, my friends, is exactly why I can only hope we make good pets when the aliens arrive.
The muffin’s natural defense is hiding in a food case
The barista looks at Lunchroom Lady, blinks, looks at the fully stocked display case, then back to Lunchroom Lady. “Um… yes?” she says.
“Like what?” Lunchroom Lady says, as she scans the contents of the food displayed in front of her.
Working her way through the display case, the barista says, “Yeah, OK. Cookies, muffins, cake pops, pumpkin bread, fritters, sandwiches, fruit and cheese…”
“Um… I just wanted coffee,” Lunchroom Lady says. Because there’s a sandwich in every drink, right?
“But… Did you want something to eat?” asks the barista.
“Huh?” Lunchroom Lady says.
“OK, which kind of coffee would you like?” the barista asks.
“…Coffee?” Lunchroom Lady says.
Pets, people. That’s really our only hope when the aliens come.