Latte, A Minor Place, Brunswick

I guess you don't need to be David Caruso to work out that after Serena I headed north on Sydney Rd, visited one of the many bakeries in the next block, and turned right onto Albion where I soon came upon A Minor Place.
More assumptions still can be made:

1. The time that the two photos were taken rules out me being able to get there on foot.
2. Therefore I got into a car at some point after the bakery: I would not have chosen a random Sydney Rd bakery if I'd had to backtrack to the car.
   
3. Divide the distance by the residential speed limit, subtract that from the time elapsed between the two photos, and pretty soon you can figure out how long I had to wait for my spinach-and-cheese-thing to heat up.

I've never heard of A Minor Place, but it reminded me of that joke about dropping a piano down a mineshaft in the key of A flat miner.
Narrowly avoiding some guy with avant-garde Planet of the Apes hair (there is no doubt I'm in Brunswick here) on the way in, I ordered mine to take away. There was a little confusion as to whether I was ordering coffee, or paying for one I'd already had: a common problem when you walk up and order at the bar in a table-service-only-type-place.
As I waited for the latte to come out, I marvelled at how many people have complained about the service (citing "humourless Brunswick lesbians") in comments on the Breakfast Blog. I hadn't noticed any such problem. And then almost on cue: the waitress came up and asked, rather gruffly, if I had ordered yet. She was the same waitress I had ordered from just prior to sitting down. Okay, that's forgetful - and possibly a sign of caffeine deficiency - and a little blunt, but not necessarily bad service.
But then as I was leaving, she was coming back in with two arms full of plates, and I held the door open for longer than politeness requires.
I didn't get a thankyou.
I really wanted to come back here to try the breakfast (in spite of its unencouraging "meh" and "Minor Place, major wait" blogreviews) but honestly, there's plenty of food in the sea. In an age where I can google your (unbiased, and written by people who write about breakfast because they love it, and know what they shouldn't have to put up with) reviews to decide if I visit, you should be ramping up the niceness.
But hey, I've never worked in hospitality.