The Broken Yolk

So, of course, there is the other side of this situation, which is that the girl behind the counter at the Broken Yolk forgot to ask me to pay for the food that I purchased. It was a busy morning and maybe I was just lost in the shuffle. Or maybe she, like me, had had a long night the night before and was a little hazy. Or maybe, just maybe, just as I had been distracted by her looks, she was distracted by my devastating handsomeness.

Sure.