misundertadning

The little cupboard on the wall above the serving table is wide open. Normally it isn’t, in fact it is the norm for it to stay shut and nobody ever takes anything out of it. It may be too scary people think for some stupid reason so they sort their drinking vessel problems in a way that opening those doors or one of them can be avoided while they help themselves to lunch. Now the two doors are open hanging like spread wings in the air ready to flap but unwilling still. They are only doors after all while for the first time I am sitting here witnessing how they reveal the contents I have never laid my eyes on before.

Funny how such difference a small event like this can create in one’s perception. For the first time ever I look to see the shelves behind the glass doors noticing and appreciating them. They aren’t the usual boring shelves, if carried away I would suggest they are a feast of engineering but as I said that would be getting carried away so I must settle with saying that they are not the usual shelves you get from a flat pack.

I am watching how they are being ripped of their holdings. A young lady whom is a member of the hard working and faithful staff at my usual café is taking the glasses onto a tray and then carries them of to the kitchen with them only to reappear a little while later with the same but empty tray. At first I wasn’t sure why she is doing this but the mystery slowly reveals itself in my mind. A simple one for that as I guess it is just time to make sure there is no dust gathering in any of them.

My regular glimpses toward my subject, the cupboard with the open, wanting to flap doors have not gone on unnoticed. The young lady maybe thinking she is the one who enjoys my undivided attention instead of the subjects of hers and looks over to my table. This creates an impulse in me to look at her shifting my focus slightly trying to avoid scrutinising her just the same way as I have done with the object before. I look at her face and we make eye contact for a split second before she turns away leaving me precious little time to pay her a polite smile. I look at my watch to learn that eleven minutes and seventeen seconds have gone by since I picked up the pencil. It is time to gather my things, grab my coffee and smoke a cigarette on the terrace enjoying the simultaneous taste of the dark liquid, the smoke, the sun and the wind in my face before getting on for home.