B'nticed

I fasted for 12 hours last night before giving blood this morning for a cholesterol test. What better breakfast than eggs and butter?

I went to the café nearest the pathology place, because I was starving. That café was the appallingly named B’nticed. I don’t actually know how to pronounce this. Does it mean ‘Be Enticed’? Does it mean ‘Be Noticed’? Or none of the above? Either way, they should change their name, because it’s bad.

When I lived on Beissel St, I walked past this place 10 times a week on my way to and from the office, and not once was I ‘enticed’ to be ‘noticed’ there. But hunger is powerful, and this morning, the path of least resistance was in order.

The eggs arrived with an extra piece of toast, as requested. When I ordered, the dude said ‘the eggs come with two slices, so does that mean you want three slices?’. It’s always good to be sure. The toast was pre-buttered, and sitting on the plate separately from the eggs. The eggs themselves were delicious – fluffy, moist (awesome word) and very filling. The tea was in a bag – not loose leaf – and the pot was fairly small. But I’ll definitely go back for the eggs.

Word to the wise: when the wind is cold, don’t sit near the back door. Rookie error on my part.