Was it something we said, Miss Millie?

I just don’t understand. Wasn’t there a line out the door every single weekend brunch? Didn’t you have enough adulation in Noe Valley? You know how much we adored you. Was it something we said? I never heard anyone say anything bad about you, not once. You must have heard me talking about you, Miss Millie. Remember what I said? There was that one morning we were waiting in line, and my friends and I struck up a conversation with that one couple about the neighborhood and the wait we were experiencing, the weather that had just turned rainy and how I, from the midwest, and one of the shes, from New England, couldn’t possibly complain given the alternatives. And then they asked me if all this waiting was worth it, and I told them that someone must have saw the need for a restaurant where you go in, you sit down, order your food, take that first bite, and then forget that anything bad ever happened to you.

I don’t hand out compliments like that lightly, Miss Millie. That was meant for you and you alone. And I doubt that I’m the only one that ever felt that way about you. But you’ve left us. You’ve left us for Rockridge. I hope it wasn’t us, Miss Millie. And I hope everything’s alright. We’ll come visit you over in the east bay. And please don’t stop making that curried tofu scramble, that would break my heart.

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