Working at Munchers Bakery in Lawrence, Kansas, I see a lot of interesting people: travelers, regulars, families, friends, strange folk. When I get the chance I try to ask them two questions: "How was your morning?" and "What are you doing today?". Here were some of my favorite customers from the weekend of Jan. 27:
The Pinewood Racers: The boy walked in wearing a boy scout uniform; his parents trailing behind him. As I cashed out their order, the dad asked me for some pennies. “They’re good weights for pinewood derby cars,” he said. “We’ve got a race today.”
The Young Reader: As her mom handed me money for their donuts, I asked her 5 year-old daughter what they were doing today. The mom told me chores, but the little girl laughed with excitement. “I’m going to read today!” she said. Her novel of choice: “If You Give a Pig a Pancake.”
The Pentathlete’s Support: The tall gentleman was dressed in KU gear. He told me that he was going to watch his daughter compete in the Pentathlon for KU's track team. While she jumped hurdles, sprinted, and threw heavy objects he was going to eat some Munchers donuts.
The House Mom: The woman ordered two big boxes of donuts for a celebration at Sigma Nu, where she had been the house mom for a couple of year.s I told her that that must be a difficult job. “It can be,” she said. “Last night was trying…”
The Donut Club: Her and her friends had been coming to Munchers since the 1970s. “We admire everything you guys do,” she said. “It has a special place in my heart.”
The “Adult”: He had been out of college for a couple of months and now he was looking for an apartment. “This is all too ‘adult’ for me,” he said.
The Ultra-Marathoner: Her shirt listed several races on the front and I asked her which ones she had done. “Marathon and 50 mile,” she said. “But I’d like to do a 100 mile run someday.”
The Secret Optimist: As the student ordered, I asked him how his semester was going. “I like to call myself a realist,” he said (in a way that sounded like he was actually a pessimist.) “But I think it’s going to be a good semester.”
The Violinist: The girl walked in with her dad and a violin case in her hand. She’s been taking lessons for the past year.
The South African: The second he spoke, I knew he was not from the US. He looked to be in his late 20s and there was a girl next to him about the same age. I got them their donuts, but his credit card wasn’t working as I tried to check him out. He explained that had just moved here from South Africa and all of his bank information was still registered there. When asked why he moved to the US, he looked at the girl and smiled. “Her,” he said. “I married her.”
The Friend: We had just finished one of the afternoon rushes, when she walked in. There was a pep in her step and a smile on her face. It was my good friend Grace.
The Responder: The woman was older; short white hair, round cheeks, polite smile. She told me that she was bringing the donuts in for work. She is a responder for the Veterans Assistance Hotline.
The Writer: He looked like a James Bond Villain. Dark fur hat, dark trench coat, dark eyes. He would be returning home to work on some projects, he said vaguely. I asked him what and he explained that he was a government writer, whatever that means. “I’m sure that can be boring at times,” I said. “Unless it’s something interesting....” “Right now,” he said pausing. “It’s pretty interesting.”
The Raccoons: They boys scurried up next to their dad as he ordered their donuts. Both of them looked to be younger than 8 years old and they were wearing identical knit hats in the shape of raccoons. I could still see the dark eyes and the triangle ears bobbing up and down as they ate.
The Stoned: It was 6 a.m. when she walked in. The woman had frazzled hair and a flustered look in her eyes. When I asked her how her morning was she responded, “Not good.” Her daughter had kidney stones and they were heading to the hospital. Before they could go, they needed some Munchers to make it through the day. “At least she doesn’t have a brain tumor,” she laughed. “That happened last year.”
The Partier: The gentleman was a little older with a bald head and a tired face. He told me that it had been a rough morning so far and I asked why. “I had a little too much fun last night,” he said.
The Donut Dog: The first thing I saw was the dog: a massive golden retriever. The owner, a guy with long dark hair, had tied it up at one of the poles so he could walk inside. As he ordered, he told me that the dog’s name was Burris. “That reminded me. I need to get him an orange mini cinnamon roll,” he said. “He’ll kill me if I forget.”
The Father: The older man was getting donuts to take to the church congregation. He’s based out of Garden City, but today he was giving a sermon at daughter’s church. The topic: family.
The Princess: She was 3 years old, wearing an Elsa shirt, and a hat with a long blonde braid coming from the back. Her favorite princess.
The Happy Campers: A whole troop of boy scouts and their leaders. They had just gotten back from a night of camping. The temperature was in the 20s that night.
The Baby of the Family: The grandma was ordering cinnamon rolls for her grandson’s birthday. “He’s the youngest of 11,” she said. “My other kids don’t have children, but my son has enough to make up for them.”
The Double-Roast: I tried to throw a piece of paper into the trash and it flopped onto the ground. “You’ll never make the basketball team like that,” the older woman said from the other side of the counter. “Actually, you might have a chance with the way KU has been playing.”
Disclaimer: All quotes and experiences are recalled from memory so they may not be 100 percent accurate. Many of these encounters are brief, representing just a fraction of each person's story.