Sunday Breakfast

The waitress, a smallish girl with heavy makeup, came with the menu to take my order. She dropped it and made to turn away. If she was familiar with me, she would know I place my orders immediately. I’m a regular here. 

“Please, wait. I am placing my order straight away.”

She had the figure of a runway model. I didn’t recognise her. I opened the menu and ordered Purr Double Breakfast.

“But, please, make it omelettes instead of eggs.”

“This is a standard menu, sir. It has to be eggs.”

I peered at the nametag on her blue polo shirt. 

“Kathie, please check with your chef. I’ve had it that way before here.”

“OK, sir. I will check and be back.”

She strode off. Cyndi Lauper crooned Time After Time from the speakers hidden in the ceiling. I shut my eyes to savour the richness of her voice. The waitress came back.

“I apologize. You can have it your way, sir.”

“It’s OK. With coffee and water. All to be served at the same time.” 

That instruction was important. I didn't like drinking coffee without eating something first. It churned my stomach.

“With brown or white sugar?” she asked.

“Brown.”

“Cold or warm milk?”

“Warm.”

She jotted on her order slip. 

“White or brown bread?”

“White.”

“Butter or jam?”

“Butter.”

She confirmed my order by running through her jottings and ending with “All to be served at once.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Did you enjoy your meal, sir?”

“Yes,” I said, belching.

I flipped out a credit card. She asked shyly if I was tipping. I asked her to include a tip the exact value of my meal. She flinched. 

“Go ahead. I enjoyed your service.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“Pay by contactless ok?” I asked, casually.

She nodded. I waved the card over the POS terminal. A blip, and the transaction went through. I slipped the card in my pocket and strode to the door. Joy by Teddy Pendergrass blared from the ceiling. Kathie stood at the exit to see me out. She smiled and genuflected, “Thank you for coming.” 

I could afford to be that generous; it wasn’t my credit card. That would serve that wanka on the bus right.

by Ozimede Sunny Ekhalume