Friday Night at Panera


Middle-aged man, khaki pants, khaki jacket, khaki socks, navy Crocs. He pulled a tissue from his pocket, causing a used one to fall to the ground. He kicked this toward the counter. The pretty cashier took the man's order and accepted the money from one grubby paw. Meanwhile, his other snotty hand stashed a second dirty tissue behind the "Donate to a Really Good Cause!" jar. Two fresh-faced women—a mother and daughter—stood behind him in silence. Mouths open, sentences unfinished, lives forever altered.

Mark my words, Monsieur Khakipants. When I am queen, that kind of behavior will not be tolerated.