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i always liked opening the shop more than closing. the warmth of the kitchen in the morning seeps into your bones and the smell of pastries and breads fills the room, it's a refreshing and cozy start to your day.
headphones in, i enjoyed my short walk to work. from my apartment to the shop is only 15 minutes , but i make it 20 when i need to listen to a song again. i treat it as my me time, not like most of my time isn't me time but this is truly relaxing for me.
i'm sure ill be here before Toni, more than sure. i'm certain.
he was early his first day, by accident since he thought he was in at 11 not 12. its never happened since.
making it to the shop, she looks the same as i left her last night.
the clink of the keys in the lock, brings me back to last night all over again, not like it took much to make me think about it.
i hadn't stopped since.
I don't know the faces of everyone, or even most of the people that come in because i'm usually in the back but i know i've never even seen him in town.
i don't get out very much, so i'm not sure how much that stands for
i thought to myself as i turned all the lights on and started to take the chairs down. i always do just half the tables, mr. punctuality does the rest when he comes in. we open at 8:30, i get in at 7 to have an hour and a half for prep.
heading straight to the kitchen, i hang my bag up and wash up. a woman called in a specialty order of decorated cookies for some party. rich people stuff i think, she ordered 3 bakers dozens and a dozen of our classic cinnamon buns, i already make 2-3 regularly for the shop. it was a little crunch for time yesterday but i got all the cookies for the order baked and started the icing on some of them. she said she would be sending someone around 1 to pick them up, so i have till then. which is more than enough time.
as i'm scratching down a quick list of all the things i need to get done today, i hear noise from the front. peeking at the clock, i see its 7:20, only 20 minutes late not bad. he'll make his way back here once he situates the front.
as i'm moving pots and mixers around to set up my station, he comes strolling into the back. a cup of tea most likely in his hands, he comes and leans over on the bench, across from me and blows on it to cool it down.
"good morning, squirt."
he says and takes a dramatically loud sip of his tea. he has some old man tendencies that i've come to find amusement in.
