The thief didn’t need caffeine to stir his nerve. He walked into the Blue Stove. Walked past the blueberry buttermilk biscuits and plum crumble pies. Went to the bathroom, then took off with the tip jar.
It was Tuesday, last week, mid-day. Katie Dulin worked the counter, serving homemade pastries, washing antique teacups, wearing an apron just as darling. She did not hear the hoodlum leave. When her next customer went to give her a tip, she saw her Mason jar was gone.
“For somebody to do something like that, they’ve got to have bigger problems than I do. I feel more sorry for him than I am angry,” said Dulin, reflecting over the heist while preparing a key lime pie. “I’m not in the mindset of judging people. I don’t want to be that way. It’s sad.”
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