On Seinfeld, Elaine was so smitten by the Soup Nazi's offerings that she withstood his abuse and capricious behavioral requirements. We won't go so far as to imply a Scone Nazi exists in the Valley, but let's just say you do what you have to do to get what you need at Kohnie's. Kohnie's scones are so good -- they're usually gone by 8 a.m. -- that they tend to inspire irrational loyalty and perseverance in customers. Kohnie, the proprietor, is gleefully unapologetic when he runs out of scones or whatever else you're craving. A "regular" who walks in after you will get served first -- you got a problem with that? And then there's the matter of the no-man's-land time between breakfast and lunch when you can't have either. Just a bowl of granola, please? I can see it from here, sitting in that jar, no cooking needed, you plead. Nope, breakfast is over, Kohnie grunts. Okay, what about a sandwich? No can do, says Kohnie triumphantly; lunch doesn't start for 20 more minutes. Defeated, you walk away. You'd better learn the rules if you want to eat here. (But once you do, it's worth it.)