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Perfect Strangers- In the Café
This was Mona’s job. She clocked in at 9am sharp and left at 5pm. It was as good as a ‘regular’ 9-to-5 job, except she was sharing the shift with another employee who took her place from 5pm to 9pm, which was the closing time of the café. Mona was grateful she didn’t have to work the night-shift as she had an aversion of things and people in the darkness of night. It made her feel really uneasy.
By now, Mona had realized a specific stereotype that she had always held about traditional places like this, as someone who had been raised in the city, was not always true. It was the notion that people of places like her resident-town were technologically backward and lacked the knowledge of the know-hows of modern equipment and the internet worked.
“What’s the wi-fi password?” Mona had been taken aback on her very first day, as her female customer showed her phone and gestured that her Facebook page was not getting refreshed.
“Please wait for a minute… Okay mam, the password is…” Only when she had left, did Mona notice one of the kids in the café playing on an iPad, while his mother typed on her smartphone to someone, sipping her caramel macchiato, eventually telling her son to stop playing and drink the orange slushie she had ordered for him just a while ago.
This seemed to be quite a happening town built upon vintage beginnings. Modern townsfolk in old historic houses. Only Mona’s apartment and a few other flats in the area were comparatively newer. The rest, especially the houses looked mysterious to her with their colonial architecture broken down by time but still standing so strong and tall against the cloudy sky.
The clock at the corner top of her counter that adjoined the kitchen struck 4pm as two young men in casuals entered the café.
“Good morning.” Mona greeted the two young men as they looked at each other and then at her with a lingering glance. “Please be seated.”
As she worked on their orders, Mona overheard an interesting talk point as one of them mentioned ‘weekend club.’
“One latte macchiato with antipasto salad and one coffee mocha with crepes.” Mona repeated their order, placing the tray as one of the men politely moved his hands off the table to let her serve properly. “Do you want the dessert now or later?”
“Yes, later will do,” one of them replied, but the other who had been regarding her with a keen look ever since they had entered the place spoke up, “I’m sorry of I’m mistaking you, but you just recently got into the weekend club didn’t you?”
Mona gasped. How did this random stranger know that? Jesus, was he following her around? She turned away firmly but paused at his next words.
“I think I saw you from the second floor. Clearly. I don’t know what they made you but you definitely got in. You or someone who like you. Actually, both of us also are members in there so I was thinking if we were part of the same community?”
“What is your name?” Mona asked, trying to get some kind of information about him. He seemed to have watched her registration process with the Panel. “And are you one of the Officers?”
“My name is Tannon and he is Jaden. We are members in the club. Where you recently joined.”
“So, what are your roles?”
“Well, I was initially a PT&D recipient, that’s what they call it... then I opted to become an editor and poet for their magazine after 3 years. But Jaden here was a former recipient and he became a violinist for the choir. The club has a choir which performs at the St. Patrick’s Church down the road from the building, about fifteen minutes from here. So, you can easily switch roles within the same arena if you want to. But generally, the recipients take over the roles of their mentor counterparts. So, you pass on the stuff that you got. In a spiritual context.” “I’m super-bad at poetry, I feel” his tone changed a bit. “I can’t make lines rhyme at all, but you’re most welcome to read my stuff sometimes.”
Friends in small places.
Mona had read that book written by Ruskin Bond.
She had never considered the possibility of it becoming a reality. But maybe things like that did happen rarely. In small towns like this.
© adrija.g
By now, Mona had realized a specific stereotype that she had always held about traditional places like this, as someone who had been raised in the city, was not always true. It was the notion that people of places like her resident-town were technologically backward and lacked the knowledge of the know-hows of modern equipment and the internet worked.
“What’s the wi-fi password?” Mona had been taken aback on her very first day, as her female customer showed her phone and gestured that her Facebook page was not getting refreshed.
“Please wait for a minute… Okay mam, the password is…” Only when she had left, did Mona notice one of the kids in the café playing on an iPad, while his mother typed on her smartphone to someone, sipping her caramel macchiato, eventually telling her son to stop playing and drink the orange slushie she had ordered for him just a while ago.
This seemed to be quite a happening town built upon vintage beginnings. Modern townsfolk in old historic houses. Only Mona’s apartment and a few other flats in the area were comparatively newer. The rest, especially the houses looked mysterious to her with their colonial architecture broken down by time but still standing so strong and tall against the cloudy sky.
The clock at the corner top of her counter that adjoined the kitchen struck 4pm as two young men in casuals entered the café.
“Good morning.” Mona greeted the two young men as they looked at each other and then at her with a lingering glance. “Please be seated.”
As she worked on their orders, Mona overheard an interesting talk point as one of them mentioned ‘weekend club.’
“One latte macchiato with antipasto salad and one coffee mocha with crepes.” Mona repeated their order, placing the tray as one of the men politely moved his hands off the table to let her serve properly. “Do you want the dessert now or later?”
“Yes, later will do,” one of them replied, but the other who had been regarding her with a keen look ever since they had entered the place spoke up, “I’m sorry of I’m mistaking you, but you just recently got into the weekend club didn’t you?”
Mona gasped. How did this random stranger know that? Jesus, was he following her around? She turned away firmly but paused at his next words.
“I think I saw you from the second floor. Clearly. I don’t know what they made you but you definitely got in. You or someone who like you. Actually, both of us also are members in there so I was thinking if we were part of the same community?”
“What is your name?” Mona asked, trying to get some kind of information about him. He seemed to have watched her registration process with the Panel. “And are you one of the Officers?”
“My name is Tannon and he is Jaden. We are members in the club. Where you recently joined.”
“So, what are your roles?”
“Well, I was initially a PT&D recipient, that’s what they call it... then I opted to become an editor and poet for their magazine after 3 years. But Jaden here was a former recipient and he became a violinist for the choir. The club has a choir which performs at the St. Patrick’s Church down the road from the building, about fifteen minutes from here. So, you can easily switch roles within the same arena if you want to. But generally, the recipients take over the roles of their mentor counterparts. So, you pass on the stuff that you got. In a spiritual context.” “I’m super-bad at poetry, I feel” his tone changed a bit. “I can’t make lines rhyme at all, but you’re most welcome to read my stuff sometimes.”
Friends in small places.
Mona had read that book written by Ruskin Bond.
She had never considered the possibility of it becoming a reality. But maybe things like that did happen rarely. In small towns like this.
© adrija.g
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