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| - The lady and I played the You-Pick-2 game as well yesterday whilst burning a spare couple of hours during Kay's car inspection at the neighboring Jiffy Lube.
Faithful (archivists?) readers will know that I swore off Panera after a visit to the Monaca franchise 2.5 years back, but with no other sit-down dining options within safe walking distance (no sidewalks, lots of cars, busy highway), we were cornered.
I still resent Panera's ordering system and how employees resent those who've not gotten the hang of it.
Or maybe its that I just hate having my name called out with no amplification after placing an order and from there having to figure out which meal is mine by looking at it -- sandwiches can all look the same sometimes. Also unappreciated was the impatient, glowering manager who seemed to have come straight from a reform school cafeteria. Third, I can't understand why savory breakfast items are to be ordered at one station while lunch and dinner items are to be ordered at another. Making this more confusing is that some of the breakfast items are only available during certain hours. Furthermore, specials aren't listed on the menu board. Instead, they flash on a screen for a few seconds at a time. Shucks, I might have tried that Country Mushroom Truffle soup with half a Grilled Fontina Cheese Sandwich had I known they were on tap as they both looked pretty tasty. Alas, I didn't notice them until after we put our order through and sat down.
My Turkey Avocado wasn't a bum deal, however, as I wasn't expecting such thick, succulent cuts of gobbler. I just wish that Chicken Noodle Soup didn't taste like bouillon-enhanced dishwater.
Bimbo Desserts: Panera has a harem of 'em. Only the warm, rich chocolate chip cookie stood out, though. I'm sure she's in night school. The rest of them are just partying after hours while living with grandma and chasing after guys in bands. The Red Velvet cookie was beautiful to look at but was hard to strike up a conversation with. A errr..."chocolate pastry" was merely a cold, croissant-like thingamajig with a candy bar stuck inside. She was aloof but only because she has little to say of importance or intelligence.
A boring but pretty or pretty boring cinnamon roll or bun or whatever came home with Kay and I once the party was over. She was crying because her boyfriend was being a cad and ditched her, taking the car with him. So she spent the night on our futon. We're too nice, eh?
And she's still here. Eating Cheerios and watching VH-1 and Cartoon Network and MTV. When she's not doing that, she's texting said boyfriend about his new girlfriend, what she looks like, wondering whether or not she knows her, etc.
Someone take Cinndy (yes, with 2 n's). Please. If her grandma won't take her back, she has an aunt in McKees Rocks. Don't ask her about her "rents" as she refers to them as. They don't understand her and won't let her live her life, ok? Gawd, she can go back to community college, like anytime?
P.S. At least the joint is spotless, and I suppose it's a decent place in which to relax and read the paper.
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