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Yesterday, when I was coming out of a hotel with a friend, I realized I had to validate parking inside. She offered to go in and do it, and when she emerged, she had a validated parking pass, my change, and a warm chocolate chip cookie of which she offered me a piece. It was a policy of the hotel's to give a cookie to guests; it was also the perfect thing at the right time.
Today, when I picked up
imlad's mother from the airport for yet another of the seemingly endless series of dentist's appointments, she gave me the chocolate chip cookie she'd gotten on the plane. I stuck it in my pocket for later.
I'm bleeding today, crampy, tired and a little grouchy, and when I went to Baker's Best, the excellent cafe in Newton where I tend to sit during these dentist's visits, it was too late to get a hot sandwich from the grill. The brash and charming young manager, with his broad Massachusetts accent, commiserated, understood my strong desire for a tuna melt, but couldn't give me one. I must have looked so pathetic that he gave me - you guessed it - a free chocolate chip cookie.
Things could be worse.
Today, when I picked up
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I'm bleeding today, crampy, tired and a little grouchy, and when I went to Baker's Best, the excellent cafe in Newton where I tend to sit during these dentist's visits, it was too late to get a hot sandwich from the grill. The brash and charming young manager, with his broad Massachusetts accent, commiserated, understood my strong desire for a tuna melt, but couldn't give me one. I must have looked so pathetic that he gave me - you guessed it - a free chocolate chip cookie.
Things could be worse.