Have you ever craved something so much that it clouded your judgement and made you do things you would not ordinarily do? Today, I succumbed to such a craving.
It is no secret among those who know me that I love a good bagel. And when I say “good bagel”, I mean a bagel from Einsteins. I have tried those doughy, tasteless, toroid abominations that are sold in grocery stores and laughably mislabeled as “bagels”. Frankly, the makers of those things should be brought up on charges.
No, it is Einstein’s Bagels or nothing for me.
The problem is, unless I am thinking clearly enough on Friday to go buy the bagels for Saturday morning, I will have no bagels on Saturday morning. And since I have one of the worst memories in the history of memories, I go without bagels for about 48 of the 52 Saturday mornings that occur naturally throughout the calendar year.
Another option is to actually go to the bagel shop on Saturday morning and buy them. Again, people who know me know that this is not really an option. I think I have made it abundantly clear in most of my blog posts that I am not a morning person. Waking up is difficult for me. It usually takes me about an hour after waking up to remember what planet I am from and what my name is. Everyone who knows me has learned not to tell me anything until after I have been up for an hour or so. They might as well tell it to a fire hydrant. In fact, the fire hydrant is more likely to remember what they said than I am.
This problem does not clear up until after I have had my shower. My morning shower is a necessity for two reasons. First, and most importantly, it shocks me back into this dimension and renders me sentient once again. And secondly, and almost as importantly, it remedies another malady I suffer from; namely, the worst case of bed head that doctors on this (or any other) planet have ever seen. I always wake up looking like the love child of Eraserhead and Einstein (but without the light of intelligence behind my eyes).
And having to take a shower, get dressed, and trying to look sane enough to go get a bagel just ruins the whole bagel-and-coffee-while-lounging-in-pajamas vibe I like to go for on Saturday morning.
Long story short, I usually have to do without my beloved bagels on Saturday morning.
But today was different. Today the craving for an Einstein bagel was just too great. I reluctantly changed from my pajamas into street clothes. I did what I could with my hair, but, frankly, it was like trying to make a topiary giraffe out of a tumbleweed. I just grabbed my keys and left the house as-is.
As I drove to Einstein’s, all sorts of scenarios played out in my mind. I was certain to run into everyone I’d ever known. They would recoil in horror as they saw me. Later they would tell their friends or spouses or whoever something along the lines of, “I saw Biff today at the bagel store. Are they shooting a remake of ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ around here? I’m pretty sure he was dressed up as an extra.”
I was certain I would be frightening the citizenry as I stole, Sasquatch-like from my car to the entry of Einstein’s.
Women would be screaming. Children would hide themselves in their mother’s skirts. Helicopters would be circling above, with special ops police officers hanging out of them precariously with rifles filled with tranquilizer darts.
Somehow, I feared it would all end with me clinging to the side of the tallest building around, growling in rage, and taking swipes at circling biplanes.
But the story had a happy ending. I got my Einstein bagel and got to enjoy a cup of coffee and a toasted bagel at home in my easy chair.
And, really, those tranquilizer darts are not so hard to pull out since they have those fuzzy little pom-poms on them.