Maybe U R my Brian

Maybe U R my Brian

“Any three with rice -- $6.99”

My kind of food. My kind of price. Steamed veg, crisp spring rolls and almond chicken, plus rice, $6.99. In another life now… and another place… but this has all the savour of those “handsome little cakes” under plastic domes in the supermarket.

“Handsome little cake…”

I take my usual place, even though the last person left it messy.

“Any three with rice -- $6.99 – bus your own table.”

Beneath a used napkin somebody has left me a message, carefully, lovingly, freshly inscribed into the table with a blue ballpoint:

BRIAN. Next to it, three interlocked hearts.

I dip into my fanny bag, smirking, remembering “fanny” is a rude word in England. I take out my own ballpoint. Red.

***I AM BRIAN***  I inscribe with equal care.

I love almond chicken. I’ll be back.

Yes, I love almond chicken. Beneath my note she has inscribed – in more haste:
Maybe U R My BRIAN!

Orange peel beef is also good.

i am brian …

In red, lower case, modestly, coyly asserting my belongingness. Modest rubrics… I amuse myself.

YES! U R MY BRIAN!!!

Hello. R U Dale?

Yesterday I watched her writing to me. Giggling with her friends who call her Dale.

The cleaners have been busy, washing off the ink. But the impressions are still there to be carefully retraced in blue and red fine-point permanent marker.

OMG! How do U know my NAME?!

My fave name. I hoped.

Mmm. Beef and broccoli today. And almond chicken. And noodles. And rice. Soon I will pinch an inch.

WHO ARE U?

I stand behind her in the line. She likes MacDonald’s. I hate it. She smells like cinnamon. I hate that, too. From the next table I watch her write her question. Later I write my answer:

I am YOUR Brian. I like puppies and MacDonald’s.

There is no answer for two days. It is the weekend. I do not sleep or eat. I walk to the mountain. And up. And down. Waiting is hard work. It builds character. And appetite.

Now here it is: R U CUTE?

My G-Friends say so. I’m hungry.

It’s true. I am so hungry.

MEET ME AT MCD’S FOR BURGERS?

I am so hungry.

Not burgers. I hunger for U.

Two days and there is no answer.

And there is no answer.

FOR U. Hunger!

At last, an answer:

U SCARE ME U R NOT MY BRIAN BYE BRIAN

She looks frightened. Her friends gather close. “Why are you even writing? Dale! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

But she will be back. And I am hungry.