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a little something to show that not everyone is cynical and apathetic yet. |
It was a very inconspicuous little place. Wedged between a photocopy shop and a grocery, I noticed that there was something different about this little café. Midnight café was the name. Five men working in a space where maximum occupancy seemed to be only three; a counter cluttered with an assortment of vegetables and cold cuts stood on the left. A huge oven, taking up most of the kitchen space, stood on the other side. It was hot, but not imposing. The smell of melting cheese wafted through the air. As a high school junior, I really wasn’t picky about my choices when it came to pleasing a grumbling stomach. ”Busy bees”, I thought as I glanced at the furious cutting, chopping and stirring. I skimmed through sticky laminated menu. The multitude of sandwiches, hot dogs, garlic breads, subs and meal deals got me in a daze. I wasn’t this lost since the third matrix movie came out. “First time sir?”, said a deep, gravelly voice from behind the counter. His face was large, like that of a bulldog, but with a playful twist to it. “Yes, it’s a big menu.” I replied sheepishly. “Well sir, you could try our frankees. We are known for them. Our garlic breads too, if you got the appetite.” I cringed internally. I never liked it when an elder person addressed me as ‘sir’. “Alright then, I will have a chicken frankee and how long does it take…” “As you can see sir, we are sort of busy today, if you could possibly wait…” “Oh that’s alright, I do have some time on my hands” and with that, I got out and sat on one of the flamingo pink plastic chairs laid outside. I unwound my headphones from my bag and plugged it in my cell phone. The air was muggy and my shirt quickly became wet with sweat. I watched the 5:00 pm crowd pass by. Some stared at me. Maybe it was my carefree smile. Most of the others were frowning, looking down, complaining about their job to their equally disgruntled colleague. “Here is your frankee sir, thank you for waiting”, I looked up. The bulldog faced cashier was standing there with my order- a roll of pita bread stuffed with chicken and wrapped in an oily piece of paper. He had a colon capital d smile on his face. “Not at all, I thank you for such a tasty treat!” I replied as I scoffed down the frankee. “That’s five Dhirams sir.” “Sure.”, I fished out the cash and headed for home. “I wonder if the rest of the stuff is as good… ” As the months rolled by, I kept coming and coming to that little café every other weekend, or after an extra day of classes at school. Needless to say, the other items on the menu were simply delectable. Many a times were they swamped. I always saw other customers groaning and moaning with impatience .Some even apathetically rapping on the glass window of the cafe, urging them to hurry up. They just failed to notice the hundreds of orders that were pinned up on the billboard and just five people to tend to them. Considering that there was always someone making the deliveries, it would be mostly be four. I on the other hand, decided to wait patiently every single time. I would ask Baptist, the bulldog-faced cashier to take it easy, pick up one of those chairs outside, take a seat and plug in my earphones with the music blasting away while they got to my order. This was always met with a grateful thank you and a smile from the lot. I never did give it a second thought. Junior year and then senior year went by in a flash. Finals, graduation, prom and before I knew it, I got into college. The night before my flight was spent with my friends for one last time. We hung around, played some pool, and had a great time before we went our separate ways. I decided to visit Midnight café for old time’s sake “Good evening Ronnie”, I sang proudly. “Very good evening parey”, replied the round faced man in his high pitched Pilipino accent. His face erupted into a toothy smile. “Is Baptist on a delivery?” I asked innocently. “Oh sorry parey, Baptist had some urgent business back home. He asked me to take care of the orders. So then, what will it be? ” “Oh, that’s a shame. I thought I would be able to see one last time.” “He felt the same way”, was the solemn reply. ”Anyway, how about a Midnight special pizza…” “Will get right on it”, and with that, he began scrambling around for the ingredients. “So, when are you headed back home?” “Very soon, only two weeks left! Once Baptist gets back from his trip.” he said as he cut some vegetables and grated some cheese. “Hope you are hungry parey !”,He shouted over the din of the fans in the oven. “You have no idea”, my mouth began to water as I eyed the cheese slowly melting on the chicken in the oven. “Well then Ronnie, I guess you’re up for a few more stressful Fridays.” “Nothing that I am not used to.” he replied with a wink as he handed the pizza to me. With the streets filled with a comfortable yellow light and barely anyone in sight. I sat on my pink plastic throne and my mind began to contemplate on what all was I going to miss about Dubai; and as the symphony of flavors began to play on my palette with each bite, did I know for certain that I was going to miss this. I wiped the crumbs away from my shirt from the last bite and re-entered the café, wallet in hand. However, a stern faced Ronnie rigidly shook his head. Apparently, Baptist and the crew had pitched in for my last meal .Everything was taken care of. A mix of elation and surprise filled my being, a mix I wore heavily on my face too, for Ronnie gave a slight chuckle and wished me the best for my future. That and the fact they were closing, considering that it was midnight, he politely requested me to leave. The walk back home got me thinking about how I would never forget that small place and its people who touched my life with this simple act of kindness, just as I had touched theirs, with just some consideration. I don’t care if they say that the nice guy finishes last or if the modern world is no place for a good person .It just feels great to be good… |