Once upon a time in the bakery line

The rain was coming down in a hurry. Muddy road was difficult to walk on. It was cold and windy. I was almost there. I could see the line forming outside the bakery and was relieved to see few people. That meant I will go home with bread this evening.
It was midday, after my school and my lunch, I was making my way to the local bakery to stand in line for bread. I don't remember the politics of how and why. All I knew was there was food scarcity, and we needed bread. Mom had tried at another bakery in the morning before going to work and dad had been to the bakery close to his work. The day was almost gone, and we weren't sure if we will have bread for dinner tonight. So my mission was to bring home the bread.
When I arrived at the bakery, only about 10 people were in the ladies line and about 15-20 in men's line. Since each line would take the turn to buy bread, that meant I would be 20th in line. I was happy, I had both of my shoes on, a broken umbrella to keep dry and a good enough place in the bakery line. The security guard announced that the bakery will open in an hour or more. I had time to kill, but I didn't move since I didn't want to lose my spot.
As time went by, I noticed my place in the bakery line was getting pushed farther and farther. More women and older girls were showing up and cutting line. Now, I was maybe 30th in the women's line. I complained to the security guard, but the newcomers claimed they were there much earlier and had reserved the spot and just went home for lunch. The young guard didn't want to argue with pretty girls. So he would let them stay in their place. I was so nervous. The farther spot in line meant few or no bread at all.
Finally, the bakery opened, and the guard worked really hard to keep order. Watching every customer walk away with an armful of bread made me more and more nervous. Would there be enough left for those at the end of the line? When I was the fifth person in the line, the guard announced that the bakery is running out of bread and will close in the next 15 minutes. I lost it. I started yelling at the guard while fighting back the tears. At first, he was smiling, but when other kids (who were pushed to the end of the line like me) joined me, his expression changed. He walked to the bakery and stopped all remaining transactions. After a few minutes, he came out of the bakery with an announcement. They had divided the remaining bread between remaining customers, and that allowed for 3-4 loaves per customer. Conflict arose, and violence was about to break out. The guard managed to raise his voice louder than the crowd and said, there are only two options. He can take all the remaining bread and close the bakery leaving everyone without any bread. Or everyone can agree to 3-4 loaves per customer and go home in peace.
It was getting dark. Maneuvering 3 loaves of bread and the broken umbrella was a challenge I was happy to have. Halfway toward home, I saw my mother who was coming to get me. I don't remember the rest vividly, but I remember we had bread for dinner that night.