5 Feb 2014

The Droof

She turned around and checked she wasn't being followed. The little gold rimmed watch with reddish lizard skin bracelet showed 12pm exactly. She was going to be a little late. She took wider steps, enjoying the balancing of her hips on the sunny pavement, her lanky composition, and how fresh and glam she managed to look today. Somebody had stuck a full size A0 digital lazer print of a monochrome oil painting of a table on the wall in front of her. As she passed it, she stopped and went back a few steps to check what it was exactly. Yes, it was the print of somebody's painting, they'd even signed it with their website on the side. She couldn't decide whether that was cool or weird or what. She stepped on, balancing more and trying to find that mojo back. She pushed more air through her nose when passing the two stinking fish shops not to get her stomach revolting and jumped over a puddle of blood. It was so funny how out of the whole street, these two had decided to set up just side by side. Surely to spread out a little would have made better customer sense. The idea of the painting kept coming back to her mind though. The work was alright. Colours were good, the angle, the very dim spot light, kind of eastern bloc, pre Berlin wall fall. Providing the brushstrokes were uncluttered and the canvas big enough, she would have probably quite enjoyed it in its original form. Something didn't sit right with the intent though, plastering it up that steamy wall just next to the pub. Or maybe it totally did. Maybe it was the font of the website. The signature was ridiculous.
She opened the door of the coffee shop with her shoulder and arched over the table to embrace Ana who was sat reading and waiting for her.

-hi, sorry I'm a little late.
-that's ok hun, I was just reading. It's so sunny now!
-what you reading?
-C.L.R James.
-what you having?
-a latte.

She walked up to the counter leaning on the corner of it and asked huskily with a short smile : “a latte and a cappuccino please, no chocolate please.”
As she was reaching for her money in the deep pockets of her coat, something heavy came to hit the glass window and it seemed to be happening in slow motion. Everyone looked up as a fat black woman was getting pushed by a tall white man against it in what looked like them having an argument. “Oh!”, squeaked Ana, as they exchanged a quick, a little frightened but amused glance. She looked back at the waitress who looked back at her then put the pot of froth down and started walking towards the window, on which the man pushed the woman harder a couple of more times. On the 2nd loud and heavy thrust, the waitress looked around the place and drew closer to the door lamenting: “Hey...,” then more quietly still, “be careful...”. The man and the woman walked passed, the man holding the woman's shoulder firmly and shoving her forward, saying abuse in her ear no one could hear in the shop. The waitress turned around towards her customers again, a little distressed, then attempted a faint smile and walked back to the counter shaking her head slightly, looking at the floor.