You finally figure out what you want to eat. You give your name to the kid at the register. A few minutes later someone who can’t see over the apparently six-foot tall counter is shouting “Chipotle Chicken Avocado Melt side of bread!” That can’t be mine, I gave my name to the guy? But that is my order so I’m just going to take it. Excuse me Topher, please stop the heavy breathing on my bread. My clear cup is starting to sweat and I just want to grab my sandwich and bread and sit and eat.
Wow, the sandwich wasn’t half bad. Must be all-natural ingredients. Those Yelp-ers don’t know what they are talking about. Let me dump my tray in the garbage now before I get moving.

I don’t have another hour to kill. I just want to throw out my garbage but nothing can be simple in this place, I feel like I’m in a recycling center. These buckets are vile. Old lady licked forks and booger laden plates are strewn everywhere. I’d like to dump my garbage, but the hole is large enough for…well…just about a side of bread. If you want to recycle so bad, why not just serve the soup in a Curby Can?

I recycle at home, it’s quite simple. I throw out my garbage. I put glass and plastic in a can. I put cardboard in a bin. That’s it. It takes about 3 minutes a week. Not at Panera though. Every aspect of that place is designed to piss you off.
Which bin gets the bowls? They don’t fit. Let’s play Topple. Just don’t touch the used silverware or licked plates, especially the ones with half sucked bread bowl remnants glued to them with broccoli cheddar drippings.



What is the $15 bill paying for? Certainly not people who maybe could do this in a sanitary environment. I don’t even know what to say anymore. The garbage can is about as confusing as the menu and the lines and ain’t nobody got time for that.



