Synchronicity

I had to go to the bank at lunch today, so I grabbed a paperback off the vast collection of as-yet-unread books and drove into town. No problems enroute, got my cheque deposited, and decided to be lazy and get lunch out rather than going home and making something for myself.

We now have a selection of fast-food joints in the village (Mary Brown's Chicken, Tim Hortons, Pizza Nova, and Subway), which is a big change from just a while ago, where there was only one greasy spoon and one full-service restaurant.

I decided to get a sub, in spite of the big "Help Wanted" sign in the front window. There was a line-up of about a dozen people ahead of me, so I opened my book and started reading. By the time I'd gotten to the front of the line, I'd read three chapters. (No, I'm not a speed-reader.)

There were only two people on duty, and while they were very pleasant to deal with (unlike at some other Subway locations), they were slow. I placed my order and eventually it was assembled for me and I paid for it. Their Coke machine was suffering a distinct lack of syrup, so that the small drink I'd poured looked more like soda water than Coke. I mentioned it to one of the staff members and she told me to take a bottle from the cooler instead.

Planned break for lunch, 15 minutes. Actual time elapsed from arriving to sitting down with sandwich, 30 minutes.

To make the connection complete . . . the book I was reading? Incompetence by Rob Grant.