Lunch pressures

For lunch yesterday, we went to one of our usual sandwich shops where you order at one end of the counter and pay at the other end. As we approach the order station, I always remind her of what she has ordered before to protect her from the vastness of the menu and the pressure of the speed-crazed order-taker. But still, the order-taker has questions. "What kind of soup?" "Do you want bread with your soup?" "Would you like a drink with that?" Each demand for a quick decision produces a mild panic and she looks to me for help. She made her own soup choice; I made the bread decision; on the drink issue I pointed her toward the cooler, and she ran off to grab a physical container, which is a whole lot easier than trying to hold a list of options in your head until you can pick one.