Chapter Text
In the early morning, the sun is rising and showing colors of oranges and pinks. Quietness fills the street where the food truck is parked. The loudest sounds are the pidder-padder of joggers and runners on the sidewalks. What would soon be a clamber of cars, diesel busses, and stern people on phones, was now a sanctuary for our baker in his food truck. Tucked inside his truck that reads, “Nellie’s” on the outside, our baker felt he was given the gift of witnessing the world peak her eyes open and stretch out arms to the sky while coming to consciousness. This is one of the few things he likes about early mornings, but waking up before the sun is a necessary part of his profession. However, the normal morning time where other humans are finally awake and beginning their day, there he thrives.
Nick’s good natured morning personality over the last 34 years, has in the past annoyed previous partners, customer service folks on the receiving end of their coffee order, and sometimes his own dog (Nellie preferred her morning zoomies after 9am thankyouverymuch). Disregarding their grumpy faces, our baker would remain authentic with smiling eyes and a warm aura, sometimes a light dusting of flour somewhere on his face, which would remind those affected by their early rise that the world is in fact not so bad. Soon their annoyance would drift away and evaporate. It also helps that Nick is a good-looking man, most would say beautiful. Nick has developed a habit of tucking his short blonde hair behind his ear when he is complemented and then reaches back to rub his neck while he blushes. He will almost always return a compliment.
Nick is the picture of a man with emotional maturity and outward authenticity. More obviously he is the picture of a masculine man. He is 6 feet tall and has been told on occasion, “oh my god those arms” and “oh my god those thighs.” Nick is not vain but recognizes how his looks and charms help smooth over upset customers. However, he finds those same looks and charms are met with expectations and assumptions when it comes to meeting new people and meeting potential romantic relationships with women.
“Nick!” The young baker in the food truck struggled to come out of his trance when he heard his name.
“Youssef!” He called back to the older silver haired man who walked slowly towards the open window.
The customer grumbled through the large mustache that covered his upper lip, “I want the pastry. With the blueberries.”
“The blueberry scone?” Nick clarified (for what was now the seventh day in a row). His customer grunted in agreement and slapped down the dollar bills on the truck’s outside counter. Nick promptly passed out the pastry.
“Don’t you need your change?” Nick called out, eliciting a grunting refusal from the older man, who was able to walk away surprisingly quickly. Nick chuckled to himself over the interaction and figuratively patted himself on the back for securing a regular customer.
Nick planned for a busier day. A convention center a block away has had a large event and Nick has made it for the last day. The truck is parked in an ideal location. He looked a few nights ago to see what the convention for, to plan his pastry numbers. As he stares down the block towards the building, he attempts to recall the event. It was an anime event? No, video game convention? It was in the nerdy realm. Well, who cares, I’m sure they want baked goods and coffee like everyone else.
As he organized the last of what came out of the oven, he admires what is in front of him: croissants, coffee cakes, shortcut pastries, breakfast tarts, scones, and donuts. There was a moment of strong emotions while reflecting on all the techniques and different doughs that created this eclectic offering of baked goods. He has worked hard for his dream of doing something he actually liked and making enough money to live comfortably. He didn’t have long to ponder his accomplishments. The world was awake, and now she was clamoring and clawing for caffeine and sustenance. He made sure to make an extra dispenser of drip coffee, assuming nerds liked coffee.
Nick wished he had been wrong or had overplanned. He was overwhelmed, both body and soul, by the horde in front of his food truck. The onslaught of all these people wanting what he was selling would have been exciting, if not for his lack of emotional preparation of too many people.
He talked as loud as he could without yelling, “I am only one man in here! So, I need just one line to my left!” Nick naively thought this was a clear instruction for adults. Despite his obvious hand signals that could have landed an airplane, he witnessed two lines form. Should I have said stage right? Wistfully, he recalled not taking his mom up on having her help him this weekend (“Mom, I am a professional and am a customer service expert! I can handle it!”) Nick did not know how to handle it.
As if parting the storm clouds of his thoughts, a tall curly haired young man barks at half the individuals outside the truck, “No no no! You can’t just form a second line! We have been waiting!”
Even with the scolding, Nick found very little intimidating about the man. He has handsome features, slender frame, defined jaw line, and blue eyes that match the rare clear sky. It’s cold enough that his breath is visible, and his cold red cheeks add a youthful innocence to his face. His glasses and his sweater look too big for him and he’s carrying a purple tote that says, “Talk wordy to me” with cartoon books and rainbows. Nick giggles to himself.
A different man’s voice cuts through, noticeably from the opposite side where Nick motioned everyone to line up, “Hey man, it’s cool if we just come over here, right?”
Nick is still handing out orders and is stunned into silence by both his need to play peacekeeper and his need to hold his boundaries.
Our curly haired customer claps back, “My guy! I saw you come from the back of the line to over there!” Despite the outcry and the public point-and-shame, those in the new (wrong) line ignore the young man and turn back to Nick, waiting for an answer.
Before Nick has a chance to put his boundary holding skills into practice, the tote-carrying-warrior-for-justice steps closer to the ordering window. As our customer turns from staring down the others in the new (wrong) line, an untucked a curl from his hair releases.
It elicits a puff from his mouth to blow it back into place as he returns his gaze to the inside of the truck, “Hi.”
”Hi.”
Nick believes he feels something of a swoop in his stomach. It is all quite charming. He recognizes that the customer in front of him is objectively attractive and it takes a force of focus for Nick to come back into his customer service persona but he’s surprisingly nervous. Which might have more to do with the angry crowd. Tote guy asks, “It’s my turn, yes?” Nick only nods in return, unable to deny the confidence (and nice face) that is in front of him.
Our curly haired customer pushes his large glasses back onto his tanned face, clears his throat and puts on an air as if ready to make a speech for political office, “I will be buying the rest of your pastries!” He puts his fist down on the outside counter to emphasize the last word.
“Uh… Excuse me?”
This seemingly rich guy drops his puffed-up persona and quiets his voice, “The rest of your pastries, how much is left?”
Nick takes a beat before responding noncommittally, “I don’t know… maybe about…” He whips his head around the truck kitchen looking at what’s left, forgetting that he should be counting.
“Well, I don’t care I’ll take them all!” Rich Guy waves to those in his line and fully resumes his political persona, “And the good people of the correct line will be getting pastries on me!”
People in the “correct line” appeared pleased, some giving the neighboring line mocking facial expressions. The customers in the other line roll their eyes and walk off annoyed and grumbling.
Rich Tote Guy quickly whispers to Nick while motioning to the customers behind him, “Let’s just get theirs all set and I’ll help you pack up the rest for me, deal?”
Nick nodded tentatively while attempting to remember how his arms work to pick up pastries and place them into bags. Nick laughed as his overall functions came back to him.
“Do you want a friends and family discount?”
“Oh yes please thank god.”