the man at Panera (i'll call him Charlie)

My dearest Charlie,

You don't know me but I feel like I really need to say this. I hope you're okay. This is about the time Jenica and I saw you in Panera. You sat in the booth adjacent to our table. You ordered a wonderful looking "You pick 2," soup and sandwich. You also had an amazing looking smoothy, mmmmm...

The moment I saw you I knew something was wrong, you weren't eating your food. The entire time you sat there you were just staring at it with displeasure. Something must have been weighing heavy on your mind because food that grand could never bring displeasure. You were just pushing your soup around in the bowl. You only took one bite of your sandwich. And after every sip of your smoothie you would set it down and push it away is unsatisfied, yet it was the only thing you would return to. Your head was hanging low and the expression on your face almost brought tears to my eyes as well.

We never spoke but you may have heard me mention you to Jenica, "Check out this guy, he looks way depressed." Maybe our whispers weren't hushed enough and you heard us talking about you. I assure you everything we said was out of concern. Your entire time spent in Panera was spent alone, in a corner, with your uneaten spread of delicious.

Then without warning or provocation you got up and left, leaving your food and taking only yourself and the smoothie. It must have brought you temporary solace. At first I thought you were just going to retrieve something from your car and return to finish the meal, but when you got in your car (2008 Ford Mustang, red) and began to pull out, confusion was added to my concern for you.

I never saw you again, I hope nothing drastic has taken place. Maybe some day you can find the peace in your life that will allow you to enjoy the wonderful taste of Panera Bread. Best of luck to you Charlie.

Sincerely and with concern,

Shaun Mayo

P.S. I really wanted to take eat your baguette, but I didn't. I didn't think it would be right.