So there we were eating breakfast at the Toasted Bun. The walls are covered with framed photographs of just ordinary people who perhaps regularly eat breakfast at that Glendale landmark. How often, we wondered, do people have to show up to be considered regulars and thus be photographed and immortalized on the walls of such an establishment. So absorbed were we in feeling left out of the Toasted Bun loop that we didn't notice her until she stopped at our table.
A woman perhaps in her late eighties, wearing some sort of Dutch milk maid outfit complete with mop hat gave us each a valentine signed with love. She wished us Happy Valentine's Day, smiled, and moved on to the next table. After she gave each Toasted Bun diner a valentine and a good wish, she returned to her place at the counter and continued eating her breakfast. Each time someone new came into the cafe, she waited just long enough for them to sit down before gliding to their table to repeat her gift and greeting.
"Who is that woman?" I asked our food server.
"Just a customer," came the answer. "She does this for every holiday. It really gives her and everyone else a lot of joy."
And so it did.
Her behavior also left us with a lot of questions: What is her life outside of the Toasted Bun really like? How long has she been handing out cards and greetings to strangers? Is she for real? And finally, where does one go these days too buy a mop cap?
Happy Valentine's Day, Roberta. And thanks for thinking of us.
On another note, I think we've got a lot of work to do before we even come close to getting our pictures on the walls of the Toasted Bun.