Politeness Loop

“Thank you,” I said to the woman behind the Panera counter, entranced by her radiant eyes, after ordering a bagel and coffee.

“You’re welcome. Have a wonderful day,” she said, her voice rich with enthusiasm, telling me that I was the most important person in the world.

“Have an even more wonderful day,” I said.

“Oh no, sir, you deserve the most wonderful day of all.”

“Nevertheless, I want you to have an even better day than me,” I said.

“I’m honored, sir. Still, if you have the greatest of days, it would make my day even more wonderful.”

Although Panera bagels are only acceptable—I had chosen it because there was no true deli in the neighborhood—I found myself yearning for the gently heated crust, the smoothness of cream cheese on the tongue and throat as one takes that first bite, the poignance of coffee to wash it down.

“Well, thank you for your care,” I was saying.

“And thank you for yours, sir.”

And so it continued, neither of us quite willing to walk away. I believed that I sensed, beneath her surface friendliness, a narrowing of her eyes, gravel in her voice, a swelling anger because I wouldn’t simply leave and pick up my bagel. It had become a contest in which neither would let the other have the last word.

“Do enjoy your bagel,” she said.

“And I hope you enjoy your lunch break,” I found myself replying.

“Not half as much as I hope you savor the bagel.”

“I will enjoy it as much as possible in the hope that it increases your enjoyment of lunch.”

“Hey bud,” said the man behind, poking me violently in the back. “There’s other people trying to order here.”

And I scurried away, a cockroach exposed to a blinding light.