� 2001-2006 by Shiloh
�
non-energeticOk, trying a new meme here...don't know if it will be a weekly thing yet or not.
"Good afternoon madame and--" my server comes to stand by my left side and begins his oft-rehearsed speech as he places a tri-fold menu in front of me, but I interrupt to gently correct him with a smile:
"It's miss."
"I beg your pardon...miss," he says genially, preparing his pen and ticket pad while continuing on with his welcome as if there hadn't been a misstep. "Welome to Friday's Feast, where we provide a buffet for your brain. My name is Will and I will be your server today. Is this your first time with us?"
"Yes, it is."
"Wonderful!" Will says with a pleased smile. "You're in for a treat then. As you've noticed, we're no ordinary caf�. We provide "Food for Thought" and serve it up in five tantalizing courses. To get you started, we serve up an appetizer, a quick and tasty morsel sure to get your thought processes in gear. Next, we bring you a soup, smooth and warm that'll soothe your mind and help you to relax, as well as washing away the cobwebs and unnecessary clutter that has clogged your mind. The third course is the salad, of course. Even your mind needs a healthy blend of 'mental veggies.' Next we serve up the main course, a hearty portion that is sure to satisfy. And last--but not the very least--is dessert! A light concoction for your sweet tooth."
"Wow," I say, blinking and feeling a spark of anticipation ignite and travel along my nerve endings. "That is a feast."
Will smiles again, nodding, and shifts his lean weight from one foot to the other. "Shall I give you a few minutes to look over the menu? And would you like anything to drink while you wait for your meal?"
I peruse the menu briefly. "Um no, I think I've decided... I'll have the Today's Special. And I'll just have a virgin Peach Daiquiri, please."
I smile at and hand him the menu. He flashes another friendly smile and goes off with my menu and order. I take out a notebook and my current favorite pen, a slender, crooked lavender pen with black ink that Mother got from her work (a chiaropractic office) and prepare for my feast.
Will comes back several minutes later carrying my cocktail, a white linen napkin, a coaster and a piece of paper on a small round tray. Smiling and telling me to enjoy, he places them before me on the small round bistro-style table I had chosen upon entering. Smiling my thanks before he walks away to serve a couple who are now ready to order, I shift more comfortably in my chair (bistro-style as well, with a plump hunter green cushion) and take a sip of my drink. Closing my eyes as the cold blend of fruit and the addicting flavor of daquiri burst on my tongue, I sigh with pleasure. Heavenly... I take another drink of the slushed concoction then set my glass down, reaching for my notebook.
I briefly pause to look around, soaking up the relaxed atmosphere. The caf�, which has an occupant capacity of 100, is doing really well today, for over half of its dining area is full. Servers, dressed in black dress pants and hunter green polo shirts with "Friday's Feast" stitched in neat white "handwriting" on the left breast, move with grace and economy amidst the customers who seem on the whole, satisfied and happy.
The background noise is as different as Friday's Feast is from other eateries. Here inside the caf�, conversation is hushed and intermittent, as people are bent over, concentrating on their mental meals, only occasionally talking to their friends or companions when a thought strikes them. And periodically, the light scratching of pens and pencils against paper and the click-clacking of keys as other patrons type their thoughts on laptops can be heard when conversations are at a lull. The only "normal" sounds in the background, that one expects to hear in a dining establishment, are the soft scraping of the wrought-iron chairs against the alternating black and white square-tiled floor and the barely audible tap of my cocktail glass meeting the coaster protecting the glass top of the table.
My eyes fall to my drink, and I idly admire its artistic presentation. Poured into a champagne glass, the light peach concoction looks cool and sumptuous. *A wedge of lime has been slit and gently fitted onto the glass' rim as an attractive garnish. Smiling slightly, I finally turn my attention to the paper that must be my brain's five-course meal.
Appetizer
Name three things that you think are strange.
Does a baby blessing count? My nephew, Cannon, was blessed in July, just days after he was born, because my brother Michael had to go back to Iraq.
If it doesn't count, then I would have to say my other brother, Jon's graduation from high school.
Salad
What is one lesson you have learned in the past year?
That adversity is necessary. I know it may sound lame, and I've subconsciously known this since I've been old enough to understand this truth, but I never really thought about it until it was hit home to me last year. This is a topic I am planning on exploring further in a future entry.
Main Course
Tell us about one of your childhood memories.
Ohh gees... *thinks* Which one should I choose, when none readily come to mind? *looks around, casting about for a spark of memory inspiration, taking a sip and then a longer drink of my virgin Peach Daiquiri. I let the smooth, chilled peachness, mixed with the unique, indescribable flavor of daiquiri, burst once again on my tongue and linger before letting it slide on down my throat*
"Mmmmm." I murmer.
Ok, I have one. Recently my young cousins, along with Nan and Aunt Colleen, came to visit us from Utah. When Mom asked them what they wanted to be when they grew up, Rachel, the middle sister, announced she wants to be a mermaid. I had to smile softly, because I too, once upon a time, had wanted to be a mermaid. I remember when I was 12 maybe, sitting on the sofa and wanting to be one so bad it was a yearning that filled every cell of my being. 'Cause, I reasoned, being a mermaid would give me more independence than my disability allows. I pictured being able to float and to swim wherever I wanted. I was tired of being limited (mobility-wise) and wanted the freedom most others have to do as and go wherever they please.
Dessert
If you could extend any of the four seasons to be twice as long as normal, which season would you want to lengthen?
I'd have to say Spring. Though Summer is my favorite season, it gets too dang hot for my tastes for a while for me to want it extended. And while Fall is a close second for an extension, it gets too cold for me in the later part. As for Winter, there is no way in heck--pardon my "French"--I'd ever want it extended. It gets frigid and I have trouble driving my wheelchair in the snow. Not to mention, I get quite stuck in it; and I usually have Spring Fever a couple to a few weeks before Spring actually arrives. Spring is, with the exception of its early weeks, the mildest season I thiink. Things start coming alive again and awaken as the temperature warms. It's quite lovely, and the days begin to be pleasant again, weather and temperature-wise. Of course, the blooming flowers are an added bonus.
"Sweet," I murmer, very much pleased, and finish my delicious daiquiri before looking around for the tanned, green-eyed blonde Will. He is taking a young couple's order, but my raised hand seems to catch his eye and he looks over in my direction. Nodding, he acknowledges me then finishes with the couple in a polite, friendly manner.
Coming over to me he smiles and reaches for the used items (my empty glass, the napkin and the "meal" on the white sheet of paper). Putting them on his tray, he asks if the "meal" had been to my satisfaction.
"Oh yes," I say, nodding and smiling and gathering my things. "It's given me plenty to think about. I'll be sure to come again."
"Great!" he says, and motions with his head to the front of the caf�, where the cash register is. "Come on and I'll ring you up. Your drink doesn't cost much, and your meal, along with your imagination--" Will pauses to wink at me "--is free."
Giving a co-worker his tray, my friendly server rings up the price for my drink and I hand over the exact amount of change needed. Exchanging pleasant farewells we part ways after he bids me to "Come again!" Waving, I give him a smile and leave the caf�, my mind full and well satisfied.
*I took literary license with the Peach Daiquiri--I don't know if the drink is garnished with anything (there are so many variations of the recipe), but I wanted a lil something so I added the lime.
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