As a child, I found bars and cafés to be mysterious places which saw shady people enjoy sinful
indulgences. My distorted conjecture was born out of my parents’ unwillingness to let me walk
alone past a bar close to our house, which had been busted by the police for its illegal activities.
Over the years, I visited a few bars and cafés reluctantly, almost judging everyone that I saw
around.
After what seems like an eternity, I recently visited Little Portland Café which is situated on Little Portland Street, London, as part of my blog assignment. The cafe is a tiny, frenzied place which is brimming with a diverse crowd, right from selfie-loving teenagers to typical English gentlemen, coffee aficionados to the vegan youth. I was fortunate enough to find a table on a Saturday afternoon.
I felt dreadful for the first fifteen minutes after taking my table, reconsidering my decision to sit in a “café” and observe the ongoings. The menu was listed on a giant blackboard. “One hot chocolate and one cheese chilli sandwich please,” I said to a speedy waitress, before she asked me to be comfortable. It wondered if working in the café and dealing with hundreds of visitors everyday, with each one coming from a different walk of life, had taught her to read their minds with consummate ease.
The table on my left was filled with an eclectic mix of food items. It turned out that the bunch of teenagers seated there were making the most of the student discount that applied to their orders. The sound of constant giggles, gossips and incessant laughter coming from the youngsters demanded that I loosen up, but then, the two elderly Englishmen on my right held their own. Black suits and matching hats adorned their tall statures, while their self-standing (and black) walking sticks were placed exactly parallel to their right legs. They bonded like two old friends who were reminiscing their past glories and reveling in their life learnings. Upon further observing them, I noticed how none interrupted the other while talking. It seemed that one could see the wisdom through their wrinkles.
After what seems like an eternity, I recently visited Little Portland Café which is situated on Little Portland Street, London, as part of my blog assignment. The cafe is a tiny, frenzied place which is brimming with a diverse crowd, right from selfie-loving teenagers to typical English gentlemen, coffee aficionados to the vegan youth. I was fortunate enough to find a table on a Saturday afternoon.
I felt dreadful for the first fifteen minutes after taking my table, reconsidering my decision to sit in a “café” and observe the ongoings. The menu was listed on a giant blackboard. “One hot chocolate and one cheese chilli sandwich please,” I said to a speedy waitress, before she asked me to be comfortable. It wondered if working in the café and dealing with hundreds of visitors everyday, with each one coming from a different walk of life, had taught her to read their minds with consummate ease.
The table on my left was filled with an eclectic mix of food items. It turned out that the bunch of teenagers seated there were making the most of the student discount that applied to their orders. The sound of constant giggles, gossips and incessant laughter coming from the youngsters demanded that I loosen up, but then, the two elderly Englishmen on my right held their own. Black suits and matching hats adorned their tall statures, while their self-standing (and black) walking sticks were placed exactly parallel to their right legs. They bonded like two old friends who were reminiscing their past glories and reveling in their life learnings. Upon further observing them, I noticed how none interrupted the other while talking. It seemed that one could see the wisdom through their wrinkles.
I was almost going to spill my hot chocolate on my white pants in a bid to keep up with the
activities on both sides. I pulled myself back in my chair, before realizing how I was actually
bridging a vast generational gap between both the tables. While the group of teens were full of
young energy, dreams and rebellion, who could blow up with the slightest provocation, the
gentlemen on my right were oozing wisdom and laughing away all their misgivings with calm.
As easily as I could laugh with contentment in the comfort of the knowledge that I was well past the phase of my life that the teenagers were experiencing, and marvel at the sight of the two elderly men who took pride in the wisdom and perfection attained with age, I wasn’t able to see myself in them. It was one of those rare occasions when I didn’t want to fit in. I just wanted to pause my thinking and live in the moment. For once, all I wanted to experience was what being a twenty-five-year-old really felt like.
My state of mind had changed completely from the time I entered the café. I soon finished my hot chocolate and sandwich and decided to make an exit. Just as I was about to leave the café, a voice behind me went “Bye, ma’am. I hope you have been comfortable.” My doubt had been confirmed. The waitress could indeed read minds.
As easily as I could laugh with contentment in the comfort of the knowledge that I was well past the phase of my life that the teenagers were experiencing, and marvel at the sight of the two elderly men who took pride in the wisdom and perfection attained with age, I wasn’t able to see myself in them. It was one of those rare occasions when I didn’t want to fit in. I just wanted to pause my thinking and live in the moment. For once, all I wanted to experience was what being a twenty-five-year-old really felt like.
My state of mind had changed completely from the time I entered the café. I soon finished my hot chocolate and sandwich and decided to make an exit. Just as I was about to leave the café, a voice behind me went “Bye, ma’am. I hope you have been comfortable.” My doubt had been confirmed. The waitress could indeed read minds.
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