One case has a loose wheel, so walking around to compare places is not realistic. The forty-minute gap is too long for the pavement and too short for sightseeing. A calm hotel lobby seems possible, although I would ask before settling in.
My recipe uses a modest amount and I don't want food left over. The person ahead ordered by weight; the next customer simply named a price. I am carrying another bag already, which rules out copying a family-sized order.
The counter closes before I finish work on most weekdays. The repair itself is simple; confirming which item is mine is the awkward part. The message says “soon” and the paper ticket appears to say Friday.
I want a clear yes or no before the seller starts serving it. The restriction is specific; listing unrelated ingredients would create confusion. Pointing at the tray only identifies the main item, not what was added later.
The app pin appears to sit in a car park rather than at the lockers. The code message names one cabinet while the map points behind the building. A screenshot preserves the code but not which entrance actually opens.
There will be four of us, and one person may arrive twenty minutes later. A tiny cafe is lovely for two people and awkward for a group with notebooks. We'll all order; the concern is space rather than trying to sit for free.
