Dillion wasn’t just hungry. He was famished. The kind of hunger that gnaws at your insides and makes you feel empty and not just in your stomach.
He rolled out of bed that morning with a singular mission: find breakfast. He put on his sneakers and stepped out into the busy, urban neighborhood he called home realizing he didn’t have a clue about what he actually wanted to eat.
His mind wandered as he walked down the familiar streets, weaving through the morning crowd of dog-walkers, and joggers.
He passed by the usual cafés and delis, scanning their outward facing menus half-heartedly.
Eggs? Nah, had that for dinner.
He needed something different, something that would satisfy both his hunger and something more.
Then he saw it—Al’s Big Bagels, the famous spot that had tourists and locals alike lining up every day. Known for its massive, oversized bagels, the kind you shouldn’t eat without two hands and a plan.
Dillion stood outside the window, staring at the colossal bagels on display. They were like something out of a cartoon, ridiculously large, almost a joke in their size.
Something about them intrigued him.
He imagined biting into one, a bagel the size of a dinner plate, slathered in cream cheese. It was a challenge, a novelty—a statement. He felt a tug, an irrational urge to order one of the huge bagels and dive into it.
His stomach growled, urging him on. Before he could second-guess himself, Dillion stepped inside the shop. The line moved quickly, and soon he was at the counter, face-to-face with an array of bagels so large they looked like they could double as flotation devices. He opened his mouth to order one of the oversized bagels but hesitated.
The people around him were all in groups—friends, families, coworkers. They were ordering the huge bagels, sharing them, laughing at the absurdity of it all. Dillion, however, was alone. How would it look if he, a solo diner, ordered something so enormous? Would they think he was ridiculous? Pathetic, even?
His confidence wavered. “Regular bagel with cream cheese, please,” he muttered to the cashier, retreating from the challenge. The cashier smiled politely, but Dillion felt small, like he’d shrunk to match the size of his modest order.
Ordinary bagel in hand, he walked to the nearby park and found a quiet bench.
As he unwrapped his bagel, the feeling of defeat gnawed at him harder than his hunger. Around him, families shared oversized bagels, laughing and enjoying the novelty. Dillion sat there, eating alone, feeling like he’d missed an opportunity for something bigger. But it wasn’t just about the bagel.
He began to wonder: ‘Why do I always play it safe? Why do I avoid the big things? The risks?’
His thoughts spiraled as he ate. This bagel was symbolic, wasn’t it, for the way he lived his life? He always chose the safer option, never going for the outrageous, the risky.
He had been working the same job for five years without a raise. He rarely stepped out of his comfort zone, never traveled to new places, always sticking to routines. He was scared—scared of rejection, failure, judgment. Even in something as trivial as breakfast, fear made him retreat.
He paused, bagel half-eaten, and made a decision. He wouldn’t let fear control him anymore.
Determined, he marched back to Al’s Big Bagels. This time, he was ready to face it head-on.
By the time he got there, something was off.
The groups had disappeared. Instead of families and friends ordering huge bagels, it was just regular customers—locals picking up their usual bagel sandwiches, nothing oversized, nothing extraordinary. The idea of standing on the sandwich line, surrounded by people who were just getting a regular breakfast, made him feel… embarrassed.
Dillion faltered. He couldn’t bring himself to stand there and order something outrageous in front of these “normal” people. His fear of standing out, of looking foolish, crept back in. Before he fully cowered, he grabbed one of the huge bagels from the open display, no cream cheese, no toppings, and paid for it, not because he wanted it, but because he wanted to escape the situation.
Walking back to the park with the massive bagel in hand, Dillion felt even more ridiculous. He sat on a bench, looking down at the oversized bagel.
‘This isn’t what I wanted,’ he thought. ‘I wanted to stand in line and order a real bagel sandwich. I wanted to take a real chance. Not this.’
Dillion realized something important: living his life based on what others thought was ridiculous. He wasn’t living for himself. He was living for the opinions of people who didn’t even know him.
He sat on that bench and thought long and hard about the big compromises he’d made in his life. He decided on what he had to do next.
The next day at work, Dillion went straight to his supervisor, Murray’s office. He had been working hard for years without a raise. He had been too scared to ask for one before, worried about rejection, worried about making waves. But not today. Today, he was ready to risk it all.
He knocked on the door and was invited in. “I need a raise,” Dillion said, surprised he was able to keep his voice steady. “If I don’t get it, I’ll have to consider other options.”
There was a pause that seemed to last forever. Dillion’s body tensed, his muscles started to hurt, just standing there. Had he pushed too far?
Surprisingly, Murray smiled. “You’re right. It’s overdue. Let’s talk numbers.”
Dillion walked out of the office with a grin on his face and a raise promised to him. He had faced his fear, and won.
That evening, riding high on his success, he returned to Al's Big Bagels. This time, he didn’t care who was around or what anyone thought. He stepped up to the counter, ordered the biggest, most ridiculous bagel with cream cheese they had, and walked out with his head held high.
Sitting back in the park, Dillion tore into the oversized bagel, savoring every bite. This time, he wasn’t intimidated. This time, he wasn’t scared.
The bagel was more than just a meal. It was proof that he could take on the big things in life—one oversized bite at a time.