In the booth behind me, an elderly gentleman sat eating his breakfast, when out of nowhere Canter’s owner Gary dove into the booth with a bag full of baked goods, apologizing profusely telling the gent that he was losing his mind.
In the next moment Gary was up walking away and gesticulating wildly in mysterious and distressed exasperation. And a few moments later he’d returned, again begging forgiveness before leaving.
Was the gent in the booth behind me some sort of mobster? Relative? Food critic? Of course I had to ask and it turned out none of the above.
“Gary is my good friend,” he said. “And usually he makes time to sit and talk with me, but this morning he’s too busy and it’s driving him crazy.”
Just then Gary returns and says he expects the man to be in attandance at his upcoming funeral before jetting off down the aisle and out of sight.
“He’s very upset,” I remark, and the man nods.
“I’m upset that he’s upset!” he says before getting up from his breakfast and settling his bill at the cashier.