Hectic. Heck, hectic is even more relaxed compared to what I’ve been through supposedly only for one weekend. It turned out to stretch waaaay onto Friday for me to have the time to access the net. See, the weekend is spent by attending a wedding. No surprise there, right? Then on Monday morning, supposedly the time I’m supposed to be back in UTM to continue my work, a call from UPM arrived. something to do with end of the year evaluation form that I MUST fill in or die from the consequences of not doing so (I may be exagerrating, but…. you never know).
So hop in to KL, stopping by UPM first before even seeing home for 3 hours filling in the damn thing. Then I bummed out at home for a day, my brain battery went dead and I spent the day sleeping. When I got back here the day after, I was still bummed out, it’s as if a fuse went off in my brain. Impromptu trip to KL is NOT fun when your cash is out dry.
Gyabo.
Plume Pt 2: Terry
Martin was never one to believe in fiction. Being a lecturer struggling on his annual academic paper, he was very pragmatic. Logical. And sometimes quite a pain in the arse when arguing about logic (or the lack thereof). But seeing beautiful 20 something girls in waitress uniforms and halos hanging on their heads serving multitudes of people just burst a logic bubble in his brain.
“I must be going bonkers….,” he muttered under his breath.
“Not at all sir. Welcome to the Seraphim.”
She was suddenly there beside him smiling a warm smile that can melt a thousand hearts within eyesight. Martin’s single heart nearly jumped out of his chest when he saw how beautiful she was. The waittress is a head shorter than he is, shoulder length blonde bobby hair matching silver pupiled eyes. Must be wearing those fancy coloured contacts.
“A.. ba.. baa.. excuse me?”
“You’re not going bonkers sir. It’s a marketing gimmick we’re working on to attract more customers by word of mouth rather than posting flyers everywhere… though we do that as well, but not as much since we’re rather short after setting up this place.”
She made a small giggle after that, covering it with her left hand while her right held a round tray. Funny how he never noticed the tray before. He was too entranced by her pretty face alone. It took him another fraction of a second to notice the he didn’t notice her halo earlier on as well.
“Is that….. real?” Martin cocked his head to one side as his eyes fixed on the halo an inch over her head.
The waittress made another small laugh and glanced up, then looked back at Martin.
“What’d I tell you? It’s a marketing gig,” she winked at him and began pulling Martin’s arm towards an empty seat.
“Well, no use coming into a cafe and ogling now right? Hopping on for some breakfast?”
Martin took another second to digest her words. Her hand is smooth. Like baby skin.
“Well… errr… yes. Bacon and eggs please. Coffee. Black.”
“Black coffee now? You sure? Our blend tastes better with sugar.”
“Well….”
“Tell you what, love. I’ll just put a few sugar cubes beside your coffee and you can put it in when you feel like it.”
Martin didn’t even get to utter another syllable when she trotted off. He looked around the place. Every table with a customer seem to have its own haloed waittress attending them. Be it talking to them, joking about and even laughing with their jokes. The whole place seem to be shining. He wondered how they put on their halos to hover like that. Magnets would be the more logical answer, but wearing a small opposite polarity magnet hidden somewhere in their hair seem ridiculous. No sooner than he could finish his thoughts, the blonde waittress returned with his breakfast, balancing her tray containing his cup off coffee with a few sugar cubes on the saucer and his plate of bacon and eggs.
“Here you go, love. You need anything else?”
Martin couldn’t think of anything else. He couldn’t think of anything, period.
“Well, uh…..”
The waittress stood there smiling at him. With the tray in her hands hugged in front of her.
“Tell you what, when you need me, just call my name okay? Don’t need to say it too loud, it’s not really that noisy in here, tough it IS busy.”
“Yeah…. okay. Sure.”
The waittress was turning to leave when something hit Martin. He forgot something. He was about to say something when she turned around, bopping her head lightly with her hand.
“Oh silly me. I haven’t even told you my name yet. It’d be kind of difficult to call me without knowing my name. Can’t go on “Hey blonde girl” now can we?”
Martin tried to stifle a laugh and it came out a whimper instead. The waittress laughed at this display.
“Well…. I suppose that IS difficult.” Both of them laughed for a bit.
“It’s Terry.”
Before Martin could reply, she turned around and off to the door behind the counter the was labeled EMPLOYESS ONLY. Martin took a sip of his coffee and cringed. It certainly IS more bitter than he’d first imagined. He popped in a cube and took another sip. And then, he blacked out.
*****
He awoke in his bed in his apartment. He took in the morning rays that slitted through the blinds as annoyance. It was some dream. Waittresses with shining halos on their heads. He was about to discount it as such until he saw a folded note beside his pillow. Opening the fold, he read:
Dear Martin,
Thank you for stopping by on our opening. It’s a shame you couldn’t finish your breakfast though, but we had to cut things short due to some….. problems. I’m really really sorry you didn’t get to taste your bacon and eggs. They’re really something else if I do say so myself. We’re oopening tomorrow so why not drop in again? I’d love to talk to you sometime.
Cheers,
Terry
He scrambled over to the bed counter and held up his handphone. It read 23rd September. Which was the morning he went to the Seraphim. And the time he allegedly went down to have his breakfast hasn’t passed yet. He dropped the note to the floor carpet as he sat on his bed, stunned.
to be continued
(even though I bought the cheapest one). Plus it looks good perching on top of my Macbook as I type this.
