I Am A Soggy Bagel

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Today I got dressed up. I felt like I needed to look good. I wanted to take extra time for myself, so in the morning I woke up early. I put on my new cream cheese spread and wore heels. I even did my make-up. I was looking amazing if I do say so myself.

I started my car and went to work. I was on the highway when it started to rain and then I got a flat tire. I pulled over to change the tire. As soon as my car was safely on the side of the highway the clouds fully opened up. Have you ever seen a bagel in high heels changing a tire when it was raining buckets? I am sure I was amusing the drivers with all four tires intact that drove by. I just know it was not fun changing that tire and I was almost instantly soggy. After a few nice people did stop to help I finally had my tire changed to the spare.

I stopped, soaking wet, at a tire store. They changed the spare out for a new regular tire and I was off to work, again. The only real different was that I was no longer fancy or looking amazing. I was simply a soggy bagel in heels.

I Am A Hurt Bagel

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The other day I woke up and my body was a bit stale. I thought nothing of it until later in the day. I started to workout with Baguette. I stretched and then ran. I was fine until we started to do the floor exercises. I should restate that. It was not until I tried to do the floor exercises that I started to feel real pain. I was falling ungracefully as Baguette showed me what to do. Yes, she did the floor exercises and I flopped around. I wound up getting unnaturally twisted up and my staleness turned into real pain. It was so bad that I could not fall asleep that night.

Thankfully us Bagels heal fast with a little wet heat. I was back to my non-exercising self within a day.

 

 

I am a Dancing Bagel

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I was convinced by Cupcake that I should try hanging out with other baked goods. It should be easy to find things in common, since we at least have some sort of the same make up. After I agreed, he introduced me to Croissant, Muffin, and Doughnut.  Doughnut and I did bond right away, since we found we had similar interests. She just seemed sweeter and more energized than I was. I found that Muffin was also pretty sweet and had her own flavor for life. Croissant did not seem to mix well with us, but that was mostly because there was a bit of a language barrier.

It was Croissant’s idea that we go out dancing just the girls. I wasn’t sure about excluding Cupcake, but he wanted me to bond with the girls. That night the girls all went to the loud night club and immediately felt out-of-place. There was not a baked good in sight. Instead the club was filled with vegetables and meats. We decided that it was okay that we did not exactly fit in with the other people, we were still going to have a good time. We went to the bar and ordered our drinks.

A minute had not even passed before a thick steak bumped my arm which made me spill my drink all over myself. I was fine though and was able to still enjoy myself. I just was not able to enjoy that drink.

The night quickly went from bad to worst. The place was hot and humid which Doughnut did not like at all. It seemed none of the meat had any brains and kept trying to dance with Croissant who was not enjoying getting their sweat on her. She wasn’t even near the dance floor or dancing, but the meat kept coming over to her. Muffin tried her hardest to dance on the dance floor, but was getting agitated by the vegetables vibrating their bodies into her instead of actually dancing.

We finally called it a night after only an hour at the club. We walked out of the club a little sticky and very disgusted. None of us wanted to socialize any more after that, so we decided to all head our separate ways and meet up for a quiet lunch after a couple of days.

What I learned from that experience was that it is nice to hang out with other baked goods, but you should always do some research into the night club you are going to.

The Bagel Love Affair

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I am a bagel and I think I am in love. I meant him the other day in a bakery. We were both there to say good-bye to family members that were sent there to leave this world. I was too late all the little bagels that I once called kin were already bought and eaten.

It was still early in the morning and his little cousins were still on display, just waiting for their turn to leave.

You see, he is a cupcake and a sweet one too, with thick Swiss butter cream frosting for hair and a double chocolate body. I couldn’t take my eyes off his sweetness, as he said good-bye to his cousins.

He saw that I had been too late to say good-bye to my kin, so he gave me a sugary shoulder to cry on. We walked around the little down town street, sipping coffee, and talking about how being baked goods was, especially when it meant knowing so little of our kind makes it pass a day old.

We soon had to part ways. He had to get back to work and I had to work on scheduling my traveling trip. We were able to setting up another date, before my schedule departure and exchanged numbers so that we would be able to talk as I traveled the world, learning about how different cultures treated bagels and now all baked goods.

Travelling Bagel

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Yes this story now comes with its own cheesy looking picture. 

After my lovely vacation returning home seemed like a prison, where no one appreciated me for being a talking bagel. No one values me for the bagel I am, so I am going to go traveling. I will see the world and learn all about the different bagel cultures around the world.

Yes, I am heading off soon, so next time you hear from me I will some where exotic. I will be in some new place where people don’t tell me to shut up or think me less because I am a breakfast food.

I told my friends that I was going to go travel the world and learn all about the different bagels. They only laughed and told me, “You can’t travel the world you’re a bagel.”

I will show them though. I will go and experience life.

This Was Written By A Bagel.

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Imagine for a moment going off and having a wonderful vacation. You lay on the beach for  days. You are free to do anything you want. The only thing you have to do is relax and have fun.

Well, I just had that vacation. It was a dream vacation. I was happy and it was as if the sun was shining just for me. I was warm and toasted from the sun with a big smile on my face.

After arriving home and unpacking I went out to meet my friends at the local bar where we hang out. I bounced over to say hello with my mind filled with wonderfully delightful stories to share with my friends. However, before I could say anything more than, “Hi guys.”

The guy with black hair and a beard shouted, “Shut up you’re a bagel!”

The group laughed and some one else chuckled out, “She’s a toasted bagel now.

I went, got myself a drink and waited for the laughter to die down. It did and by the end of the night I told one story about my vacation, which was really all I wanted to do.

For a Second Time I am A Bagel (short story)

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I am still a bagel living my bagel life. I wake up and go to work. I come home and some night I hang out with friends.

While sharing conversation and company with my closest friend a question about pain came up. My friend did not ask about sorrow or the pain that came from hardship. His question was more simple. “Can bagels feel pain?” He pondered out loud to the group.

I was off put a little by the idea that the thought even arose in his head. Of course bagel felt pain. Every living thing can feel pain in one way or another. I being a bagel physical feels pain when some one pokes me, squeezes me too tightly in their hands and when they start to cut into my sides. Every time a knife comes near I must declare that I am still living and beg them not to cut me open.

I also feel great emotional pain. I feel this deep sorrow when I see my people sold as slaves to become someone’s breakfast. My heart breaks when I see the joy of a monster biting down on an unfortunate bagel. As that monster bites down on their bagel my soul crumbles as it can feel the mashing and breaking of a fellow bagel.

I am lost in my thoughts of pain as my friends continue to ponder and had almost come to the conclusion that bagel could not feel any type of pain. It was at the conversation’s end that I told them that bagels could feel pain.

The did not believe me and one of the others changed the topic before much more could be said. I did not mind the change in conversation, since I did not want to explain to people who should have known that bagels feel pain.

It appears that this whole “I am a bagel” is starting to be a thing within my group of friends.  I am not fighting it and actually may start a video series about being a bagel. I just need to make/ get a bagel puppet. I say get because it’s just going to be a bagel with olive eyes and pretzel sticks for legs and arms. The friends of a bagel may be difficult to do though.

We shall see what happens with this. I am enjoying writing the short stories at least.

I Am A Bagel

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I have weird friends and I hope this will make them smile.

I am a bagel. My eyes are black olive stuck by toothpicks into my bagel head. My tongue is cream cheese. My legs and arms are pretzels.

“How do you talk?” “How can you type?” “How can you write?” “Why do you talk so very much?” “What is life like for a bagel like you?” These are the questions that I am continuously asked as I walk around with herbs for my hair.

I was riding in the car talking, enjoying the conversation between me and my friends when out of the blue for no reason I could tell the one in the passenger seat yelled, “Shut up! You’re a bagel.”

I was quite shocked and did not know how to react. I indeed was a bagel, but that had not stopped me from talking before. “Why?” I quietly asking hoping that I would not anger him more.

He simply laughed and laughed. Soon he was able to speak. “You’re a talking bagel.” He spoke as if he did not realize for the years we were friends that I was bagel who could not only talk but also walk and live an almost normal life.

“Yes, and,” was my reply all the while the drive sat quiet listening in on the short conversation.

He was amused by the realization that a bagel was talking to him, “How do you talk?”

I could not help but smirk as I answered, “With my mouth and with my tongue.”

“You are a bagel, though.”

“Yes, and you are human.”

The driver finally chirped in and said, “Seriously just shut up. You’re a bagel.”

With that last statement I kept my mouth shut and allowed the humans to talk as I sat in the back simply being a bagel.