Monday, July 05, 2004

Coffee

I was at a street side cafe the other morning, minding my own business and looking through a bunch of files they gave me down at the office.
Suddenly I heard this high pitched beeping and vibrating coming from my left pocket. My first thought was "Oh no, it is a bomb about to explode" but then I realised it was just my beeper.
Upon my realisation that it was just a beeper, another thought crossed my mind, it was the series of events that had unfurled as the beeping echoed in the ears of everyone in the nearby tables.
The other patrons of the side walk cafe reached for their pockets, only one continuing on with their breakfast as if nothing unnatural happened. (I shall have to observe this suspicious character when I next dine at the cafe)
As I jumped from my seat, the most unbelievable thing occured, the table got knocked which sent my freshly brewed coffee over the files and then, as if in slow motion, the coffee splashing back up to drench my newly pressed dress pants. That liquid did leave a nasty mark.
But after the surprise of the beeper, the hot liquid scorching my skin, I stepped back, tripping over the leg of my chair, flailing as I tipped over, and catching a laden waiter. My cheeks were red by now and it wasn't just because of the tomato sauce that landed on them, and the scrambled eggs on my head, bacon down my blouse and orange juice upon the pavement.
I do hope they let me eat there again, I am sure that patron was up to no good.