this morning #435.

this morning, using his imposing figure to impose upon the fine folks at the west morris st wendy’s felt freeing. it was just supposed to be a routine morning run for a large coffee & a honey butter chicken biscuit but the weathered white woman named “wendy” working behind the counter spoke to him as if taking his simple breakfast order was a serious disruption in her day. it wasn’t the first time he’d been treated like a simpleton by a complete stranger but it was the first time he’d decided to push back. standing up to a wendy at a wendy’s was an odd hill to die on but he’d been running up that hill for a while now. it was time to stop running.