GUEST POST: Me At The Cafe
March 28, 2012 § 3 Comments
Another wonderful guest post written by Genevieve! If you would like a small bio of Gen, or to read the rest of her posts, just click the “Genevieve’s Guest Posts” tag above. Enjoy!
Me At The Cafe:
You know, when I write stories, I really get to picture me in them. I’m not in reality when I write. 🙂 Anyway, in reality I’m never taken to the Café, so I’m going to write about me at the Café so it seems like I am at the Café, make sense?
I would walk in to see the stone chef statue by the door with the specials menu marked in chalk, and Rose would go say hi to Jeff, and Ang would seat us at the bar or a table. She would give us menus while Rose came back, her high-heels clicking against the ground. I don’t bother looking at the menu, I know what I want. Chicken Fingers and French Fries, WITH A PEPSI.
I would tell Rose what I want and sit still, watching the employees take out trays of food. “Can I have a Pepsi, Rose?” I ask Rose. Rose get up and takes the liberty, herself, to get the Pepsi. I would sip happily through a straw and wait for the bread and butter. As soon as it’s set down, I’m eating a piece of it already.
When my food gets there, I will eat at it happily and slowly to make it last. Jeff would come out to say hello to me. “Haven’t seen you in awhile.” Jeff would exclaim. “You’re getting big!” Jeff would say with a tender smile. “Yes well, that’s how it goes in this family. You’re short until you’re 12 or” -I would cough- “13 and you shoot right up past Mom.” I would reply, returning the smile. “Yes, yes!” Jeff would smile. “How’s fantasy hockey going?” Jeff would ask Rose. “Championship!” Rose would grin; Jeff would nod and say “Good for you! Who are you facing?” “My mom.” Rose would answer.
Ang would come up and tell Jeff something, something about a table. Jeff would say “Ok.” And say goodbye and walk away. I would enjoy the rest of my evening watching their T.V. and help Ang put menus back and wipe off tables. Rose would finally say the worst words she could say: “Gen it’s time to go.” and I would slouch and walk to the car with her, after paying of course. That would be the end of my Café adventure which I enjoyed only too much. But alas, this was all writing, not reality.
Rose’s Note: I don’t take Genevieve to the Cafe very often because I go there to watch hockey games and she gets bored. Hockey games are three hours long. Gen has no interest in hockey and there’s only so much a child can do at a restaurant before becoming bored. This seems very understandable to me and yet apparently I have been lax in my sisterly duties. Didn’t I just write a blog post about being a slave to my younger siblings…? Sometime recently…..??