Orders arrived three ways at once: shouted at the till, typed into WhatsApp, relayed from memory. The kitchen ran on paper scraps. WhatsApp messages sat unanswered for forty minutes because everyone was elbow-deep in batter — and when the reply finally came, the order sometimes came out wrong anyway.
The queue wasn't a sign of success. It was a leak — every fifth person looked at it and left.
Nothing about the waffles was broken. The information was broken: no single place where an order existed, no way for a customer to know their food was ready, no way for the owner to know what actually sold.