I do not necessarily find the same demand for joint perspectives, because, as ochungg pointed out, there hasn't ever been an instance of agreement between us in our fitful discussions (er spam sessions) of K-idols and preferred music styles. Nonetheless, we've bonded over good sustenance and zealous mukbang excursions. (Seriously, I love ochungg, even her not-so-discreet, extra-judgmental eye-rolling.)
And of course, the TTC staff in their air-conditioned headquarters could not care less about this situation, merely stating that "breaks were permitted". It wasn't until all patience had been lost that I, along with a few others, disembarked the vehicle I had grudgingly relinquished fare payment towards and walked 600 metres that the vehicle whipped by me without a shred of shame.
Needless to say, I was significantly delayed for my brunch appointment. Oops, I meant to say "lunch", for the turmoil has resulted in a total delay of thirty minutes. What ridicule.
ochungg had secured a table near the entrance and gladly welcomed me despite my TTC-induced lateness. With less than one minute having passed though, she urged to me to place an order, whispering that the waitstaff had cast glares and nasty looks at her in the time frame she had been seated.
These actions were offensive enough to hear, let alone experience first-hand. The lunch rush had yet to hit anyways. I'll take my time settling in, thank you very much.
There was no welcome speech nor introduction of menu items. She simply wished for us to order and depart as soon as possible.
Being first-time customers, we requested more time with the menu. When ready, a chubby man with curly hair took our order. His attitude comprised of the same hurried undertone, though delivery was subtler. Neither appeared genuine, so to speak.
Similarity in garnishes and composition were plentiful: oat flour crepes (which I would have never known about had I not conducted prior research), avocado flowers, sliced raw zucchini, neatly arranged fruit slices, and drizzles of sweet sauce. Where my order included arugula and partially-cooked pear, the vegan selection proffered wilted spinach, pressed mushrooms, fresh tomatoes, and a few basil leaves. The interiors of the crepes were brushed lightly with a pesto-like dressing.
The Vegan Mozzarella, Tomato, Basil, Spinach and Mushroom was a lighter pick with Italian flare. I had initially had my doubts about vegan cheese, but the dairy-free mozzarella proved tasty in solid form. (The same may not have applied in a solid-liquid phase.)
The second time she faced our direction, I caught her and requested my replacement. She obliged without expression, but once again spun on her heel at my outstretched hand gripping the fallen napkin. This would not have been much of a deal if garbage bins were found near the entrance, but there weren't any. I sauntered up to the counter, as table space was limited and I wasn't about to continue consumption with a napkin ball clenched in my palm, to inquire about a garbage can.
She could have easily pointed me in the direction of disposal equipment, but she chose to mutter bitterly, "My hands are clean...". Ultimately, she grabbed the item from me and tossed it somewhere behind the counter.
But lady, I didn't ask for you to touch my trash with your godly unstained fingers. I asked the coordinates of a garbage bin.
The entire meal lasted about one hour, although effective waiting time was likely under forty minutes. Other diners did not have the same luck as us, as large families entered the premises shortly after noon and caused up to thirty minutes of delay for crepe orders. An elderly couple seated beside us weren't too impressed at the lengthy wait of their single sweet crepe.
Two spots caught our attention on the walk along Baldwin. High Mountain Tea Shop was a sleek spot retailing ceramic brewing equipment and loose leaf blends from East Asia; Kiss The Tiramisu appeared to be an up-and-coming dessert spot for tiramisu sundaes.