It’s 6:30 a.m., and I’m hungry. I don’t have to be at the school for another 15 minutes and I want to grab a bite to eat — there’s a donut shop and a Burger King, but I don’t have any cash. I settle for the Burger King.
I order two sausage muffins. The 30-something cashier who takes my Visa card and a middle-aged manager behind her are the only two by the counter, besides myself.
I make small talk. They ask me where I work. I tell them I take school pictures, and I’ll be at the high school across the street today.
The middle-aged manager grabs her coat, preparing to leave. It’s been a long night shift. She observes:
If I could go back to high school, I would do things differently.
She chuckled twice, and knowingly, before leaving.
I get my sausage biscuits, and I leave, too.