Oh my gosh, yes.
I have this crazy, irrational, enormous anxiety attack every time I try to deal with ordering at Panera. Just walking through the door catapults me back to awkward seventh grade status. I’ve yet to feel like a competent adult in that place. Not one single time.
“…There is no fresher hell for even the mildly socially awkward than the pain that is ordering lunch at Panera Bread.
The first issue I have to resolve when I walk into a Panera is the fact that, no matter what time of day I enter that store, there’s no line. People congregate somewhat near the registers, hesitantly lingering nearby and hoping someone will make an executive decision and form a line. But where? The multiple counters and registers drawing from a single line is another source of anxiety – are there two lines? Are we forming one line for both registers? Who was here first? Are you even fucking IN line at all? Are these people over here still deciding, or did I just cut in front of a room full of passive-aggressive white-collar employees who will make things extremely uncomfortable for the next twenty minutes forcing me to listen and wonder if they’re talking about me in voices just loud enough for me to kind of hear them talking, but not loud enough for me to actually be able to make out the words and create a confrontational situation?
I understand why no one wants to commit to actually getting in line, though – the menu is a nightmare.”