The bakery was sold out of chocolate-croissants when I walked by on Tuesday but they promised more on Friday and I planned my morning around it.
As soon as deadline was over and everyone caught their collective breath I’d run around the corner, pick one up for a mid-morning snack.
One thing always leads to another and it was 10:30 this morning before I stepped out of the air-conditioned cave of a newsroom into the sunlight and warm air of an unusually hot spring day, and there were too many people in front of the little bakery.
They’d only been open for half an hour but I started to get nervous.
The man in front of me ordered two. I tried not to glare at him.
They sell out quickly. I don’t know if they don’t make enough or if it’s impossible to make enough, but it was only 30 minutes after they opened and the numbers seemed to be dwindling.
And then he was gone and she smiled, remembered from Tuesday and said she was so glad I made it.
“We had a call wanting to order 10 and I said no, we only have 12 and Heather wanted one!” she said and I was awfully glad I hadn’t got caught up at work, had made it out before the morning was over.
And the chocolate-filled croissant was as good as I had thought it would be and the sun was oh-so-delightfully warm and it made me so happy, the warm, flaky bread and chocolate melting into the corners of my mouth.
And mostly I can’t afford to choose local over cheap but a parental birthday gift made it possible this time and I understand why people do.
There’s nothing like a chocolate-croissant that was saved for you by a baker who remembered from Tuesday.