The Old Coot is an eavesdropper

By Merlin Lessler —

I was in a donut shop the other morning. It’s a great place to observe human nature in action. I’m there every Sunday, to sip coffee and consume the one jelly donut I limit myself to each week.

I sit there and read the book review section in the weekend edition of the Wall Street Journal. I’m often distracted by the interplay between customers and employees. This particular one has well-trained, friendly servers, in sharp contrast to the attitudes of some of the customers, who come in a sleepy, grouchy mood. By the time they leave, they are usually in good spirits. From the intake of sugar, the stimulation of caffeine, and also because of the cheery atmosphere created by the staff, especially the “hands-on” manager.

She can fix any problem. For instance, I’d placed my order in my car, on my phone, for indoor pick-up. That way, it’s sitting there waiting for me when I walk in. I grabbed the bag with my donuts inside, the container of coffee, and sat down at my favorite table. I sipped; I read; I eavesdropped. I sipped; I read; I eavesdropped, with my eyes focused on a book review.

I reached into the bag, pulled out my donut, and took a bite. It wasn’t the jelly donut I’d craved. It was a glazed donut. A good donut, but not jelly. I went to the counter and explained my misfortune.

The manager didn’t blink an eye. She reached into the donut rack and handed me a jelly. She said she was sorry. I said I was sorry that I’d taken a bite without looking. She laughed and told me to enjoy them both.

Here’s where I step into it! Commenting on the difference between men and women. On scant, unscientific evidence I learned from observing people ordering a dozen donuts. I didn’t set out to do this, but I overheard a man order a dozen donuts in a rapid-fire manner.

“I’ll have two glazed, two jelly, four chocolate frosted, two Boston cream, and two old-fashioned.”

Bing, bang, boom, done! A few minutes later, an adult woman stepped up to the counter, also to order a dozen donuts.

“Let me have a jelly one.” Then, after a pause. “No, forget the jelly. Let me see. How about Boston cream? I love them; what’s your favorite?”

After another pause, “I’ll have a glazed. How many do I have left?”

She then ordered a jelly. Well, you see how it went, and that’s before she fumbled around in her purse for her wallet.

It’s not the first time I’ve witnessed this scene. It’s an example of the “Men are from Mars; Women are from Venus” phenomenon. My data sample is not statistically valid, but it’s what I observe, again and again. Enough times to form an opinion and brace myself to be called a male chauvinist pig. That’s what happens when you’re an old coot.

Comments? Be nice! Send to mlessler7@gmail.com.