Swat

Today, I was sitting at the local organic bakery up the street from where I live. It tends to be a busy place, and the crowd ranges from neighborhood hipsters, to, well, uh.... neighborhood hip(sterish) families.

As I sit on the patio, enjoying an ice tea and cookie on this lovely summer's day, I spy a massive police SUV pull up and illegally park in front of the little bakery. Out march two giant men in green army fatigues with bullet proof vests and other assorted and intense looking armor.

"Whoa. The SWAT!" mutters some nerd sitting behind me.

Indeed it was the SWAT. What could they want? Is there a bomb inside the bakery? Should I grab my cookie, hop over the fence, and flee as fast as I can? No. Probably wouldn't impress the cute guy sitting in front of me by doing that...

Shortly thereafter, one SWAT member emerges. He is not covered in dust, clutching a fistfull of detached wires. He is, however, carrying a little baggie with a chocolate chip cookie inside. He's swinging it back and forth as he heads towards his vehicle- happy as a little kid! The second SWAT member then steps out, holding a tiny coffee cup, full of what I like to imagine was a cappuccino. 

Ah! So this is the sustenance needed to fuel the men who I picture rolling around in the dirty underbelly of Chicago, firing massive uzis at terrorists, and saving the world, every, single, day.