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Bohr's Biscuit, and other problems


Okay, last time I had us just getting back from an interesting but somewhat unsettling visit to the Sawmill District in Albuquerque. Again, nothing against the Sawmill. Just circumstances.


We went back to the Casita, slept soundly, and then the next morning headed out. We had a plan. We would, we thought, drive to our old neighborhood (what’s called the “Northeast Heights” area of the city. So-called because...prepare for a shocker...it is in the northeast quadrant of the city) and have breakfast at one of our two fav restaurants in the area -- either the La Quiche Bistro (https://laquicheparisiennebistro.com/), which has the best croissants in the city, IMHO, or Cinnamon Sugar and Spice Cafe (https://cinnamoncafeabq.com/), which has some absolutely smashing breakfast entries. (Try the French Toast. In a word, Whoa!)


When we lived in Albuquerque, we visited both frequently, and we were really looking forward to it. But...we didn’t know...but the vague sense of dissatisfaction of the night before wasn’t done with us yet. We arrived in the parking lot of the Cinnamon Cafe...and it was closed. We had forgotten it was Sunday. Yikes.


Okay, but no problem. We skipped over to La Quiche...


Which was also closed.


Oh, we said. Darn. Phooey. And Pshaw.


Well, maybe that wasn’t exactly what we said. Maybe what we really said had a lot fewer letters and a lot more pith. Lots and lots of pith. In fact, pith and vinegar. You betcha.


Okay, but we had a fallback. We are fond of bagels. But they are surprisingly difficult to get in Georgetown, Texas. It turns out that many Texans prefer their bread soft, white, and square...none of which bagels, well, are. As a result, we end up driving miles to get to a proper, chewy bagel someplace out of town.


But, we knew that in Albuquerque there was another breakfast restaurant chain that served bagels. I don’t want to name it in this litigious age. So, let’s just call it Bohr’s Biscuits. That has a nice generic name to it, don’t you think? No one would possibly guess who I’m actually writing about. No one might look up Bohr and his close associates and see a connection to a real restaurant chain. No. Never. You betcha. Darn clever, I am.



About the photos: Just two images today. First, in homage to our experiences at the Bagel shop, a sinister bagel I generated with AI. Not great art...not art at all, actually...but it fits the mood.


Second, a photo of Martha at breakfast the other day. This was at the Rivery, our frequent go-to spot for breakfast and coffee. They’ve also got decent bagels there...unlike Eins--...er, I mean Bohr’s Biscuits.




Anyway, there was a Bohr’s Biscuits near us so we headed there. A few minutes later, we were standing in line, waiting to order, and looking forward to our nice warm bagels -- poppy with cream cheese for Martha, sesame with butter for me. We got to the register, ordered, paid, and went to sit at one of the tables in front.


This proved more difficult than you might think. The place was almost empty. There were maybe two or three customers besides ourselves. But, all the tables were with dirty. They were stacked with used silverware and empty paper cups. We finally found a spot that was more or less not awful and cleaned it up ourselves.


I glanced at the counter. Six or seven, maybe eight, young people were lounging behind it. Two were looking at their phones. The rest were either talking or staring into space.


There was no sign of our bagels.


We waited, and waited, and waited...and waited. Finally, I went to the counter and accosted one of the loungers. Was there any sign of our orders? I asked.


“Your what?” He said, tearing his attention away from the infinite space which he’d been contemplating...either in the universe, or between his ears.


“We had two bagels coming. And coffee.”


“You did?” he answered, clearly suspicious of my bona fides. And all my other fides. Boney or otherwise.


“Ah...yes.”


“Really?”


“Uh-huh.”


“You’re sure?”


“Fairly certain.”


“Oh...okay.” The lounger-person turned around and checked with the kitchen. Sure enough, two bagels were back there. They were, of course, quite cold by this time, but we were getting hungry, and any port in a storm.  Or bagel in a buffet.


“And the coffee?” I continued.


“Oh,” the lounger said, turning back to his phone and vaguely waving at some indeterminate space at the other end of the cafe. Or the other end of the galaxy. Six of one. “It’s over there. It’s in carafes. You serve yourself.”


“I know.” I didn’t go away. He continued looking at his phone. I drummed my fingers on the counter. I shuffled my feet. I coughed. He looked up, “What?”


“There isn’t any.”


“Any what?”


“Coffee.”


“There’s no coffee?”


“Nope.”


“There is supposed to be coffee.”


“Yep.”


“We must have run out.”


“Good guess,” I said, vastly impressed by his ready intelligence.


I’ll spare you the rest of our witty repertoire after that. Suffice to say that I finally got the loungers to make more coffee (there was much sighing and rolling of eyes at my request) and that we ate our soggy bagels and fled from the scene as quickly as we could.


I must confess, it saddened me a little. We used to enjoy going to the restaurant I’m calling Bohr’s Biscuits. But, well, we won’t be going there again anytime soon. And since “Bohr’s Biscuits” is a national chain, I’ll have to think twice before I enter one of their restaurants anywhere, including here in Texas.


I’m guessing what happened is that the national company either couldn’t find, or didn’t want to pay for, a shift manager who would keep things moving even on a Sunday morning. And the sad reality of the fast food business is that unless you have someone on site, every minute, keeping an eye on things...well, good stuff doesn’t happen. And bad stuff does. When the cat’s away, etc.


Ah well...


But, while we didn’t know it, the day was about to get a whole lot better.


In fact, it would be one of the best days we’d have on the trip.


More to come.





Copyright©2024 Michael Jay Tucker


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