March 2011
The owner’s wife, resplendent in her new blonde perm that southern Mediterranean women are so fond of, greets me this morning by showcasing a new "tall glass" gesture with her hands. Unsure this new gesture might be clear enough for me to confirm I do indeed want my regular order, she also mouths the word latte at me as I make my way to my toilet table. Liking this moment, I nod, mouthing back “yes” and slow my walk towards the lepers colony of the café so as not to undermine what feels like a rare connection between the pair of us. As I inch towards my table, I reflect that it was unnecessary for me to mouth back. A nod would’ve sufficed. I’m disappointed with myself.
Sitting down at my table, I immediately wonder whether it’s a gesture specific to me, or simply a gesture she’s whoring out to everyone. After about twenty minutes of observing her dealing with other customers, thirteen of which were spent waiting for Veteran Waitress to actually bring the latte over, it appears the gesture was exclusive to me after all. In all my years of coming here, I’ve never even come close to being on the end of this kind of memorable gesticulation. Is that our thing now, the "tall glass" gesture? I hope so. Maybe being on the end of such a memorable gesture is what’s been missing from my life.
The owner’s wife should be aware now that she’s set a precedent. That’s how I am. I’ll be expecting this every time she serves me now, when really, I should just appreciate that I had it today and that even if I never get it again, no one can take away the memory of today. Maybe in time she’ll tire of repeating such a lengthy gesture and she’ll look to scale it back, dropping the mouthing of “Latte”, and the gesticulation will simply be condensed into the simple miming of a tall glass gesture with her hands. Maybe.
Was it spontaneous, or had she been thinking about it for a while? Does she have a gesture for all her customers or just a select few who aren’t in right now which is why I haven’t seen her use the gesture on anyone else? If she does it with a few people, how long has this been going on for? If for a while, how come I only got the gesture this morning? Did one of the recipients get dropped and I got bumped up? Does she give out these gestures willy-nilly and ruthlessly discard recipients if they cross her? I suppose I could handle being just one of many gesture-recipients so long as the “tall glass” gesture is specific to me, and she has alternative cup shaped signings for her other customers, signalling say the smaller cup of the cappuccino for a cappuccino drinking customer.
Is there something I’ve done in recent weeks that has suddenly seen me elevated to this exalted list in the first place? Have my regular Portuguese toast orders, at 80p a shot, secured my status as an important and loyal customer worthy of the gesture? Did she confide to close friends that she was contemplating giving me the tall glass gesture and was discouraged from doing so by people who, unaware of my limited range of facial expressions, may have felt I was either too serious, or my orders, in spite of the toast, still too meagre to merit it? Maybe she argued that the recent toast orders hinted at a comeback of sorts on my part, and expressed her confidence that within three years, I’d be placing regular orders for their flaming chorizo or the sea bass.
Did she have a shortlist of gestures for me before deciding on the tall glass? And if there was a shortlist, on what basis were these other gestures discounted? Is this morning’s salutation a gateway to more gestures, or is each customer permitted just the one gesture? I have so many gesture-related questions.
I drop my sweetener into my latte, frustrated with myself for over analysing the gesture. Why can’t I just accept it for what it is? A beautiful moment that indicates a level of familiarity and comfort with me on her part. I wish I had more wonderful moments such as this every day. I could build my new life around them.
Then my mind wanders to her husband. The man without whom there’d be no café. And with no café, this community may not have sprung out and captured my heart. He’s a big, formidable character, who despite being at least in his late fifties, still cuts a dashing figure with a strong jaw line that’s rarely free of stubble and looks that always put me in mind of a latter day George Best, on the rare occasions the former United player actually looked healthy. He looks like he might be a jealous man too. If this gesture becomes a regular thing, who could blame him for thinking that one minute I’m getting the tall glass gesture, the next I’m getting his wife?
I put myself in his position. His wife of maybe forty years may have devoted considerable time to coming up with what appears to be a gesture specific to me within days of getting a new hairdo. Once the owner observes it in action, he’ll pay careful attention to how I greet it, looking to establish how quickly the gesture is over. Does his wife drag it out? Is she using it as a prelude? A prelude to what? He’d probably be casting his mind back to see if she made identical tall glass gestures to other, less handsome customers. Does she put the same effort into that “cappuccino-cup” gesture as she does the “tall glass” one? By now tormented, he’d doubt how well he really knew his wife.
Were I the owner’s wife, I think I’d be devious enough to have spent the night coming up with gestures for other customers just to allay his concerns. I’m like that. And not just gestures for ugly men because that means as the only good looking man to be on the end of a tall glass gesture from her, our gesture’s still going to stand out and I’m going to remain in the owner’s sights. In her shoes, I’d be throwing out gestures to a mixture of both striking and unattractive men, so that the owner’s mind would be put at ease.
If I realise this gesture might be causing problems between them, it may be that I have to take his wife to one side and tell her the tall glass gesture needs to end. I’ll explain that while it’s not something I’ll ever forget, I can’t be so selfish as to allow my affection and my need for such gestures at this low point in my life to end her marriage or threaten my safety in the cafe. I’ve gone without coming anywhere near a gesture for the ten years I’ve been necking lattes here. To experience it once is enough.