milkshake

19/06/04

1.
the date was at noon, at the bamer. i got there on foot, just when it was about to drizzle. they say the bamer isn't what it used to be, but nothing is in this part of town. going in the floor is slanted to the left. the best seats are the cabinets next to the windows, finding one of the best seats is never a problem. there was a couple of tables that were taken, an old man having his coffee and a middle-aged couple (about thirty, i take it).

he was already there. sitting down, his arm on the back of the seat, the other a half-smoked cigarette in his hand. after his eyes the first thing you notice is his hair, pompadour style with a platinum streak. i can't remember what he wore, maybe his purple jacket, or a wifebeater. he was staring out the window until he saw me and he put out his cig. i assumed he was angry.

i like the bamer, it's one of the few refuges left around here. silent -you have your instrumental muzak, but that doesn't count. i recognized unbreak my heart in a soft arrangement for three strings and melodic organ.

i sat down without us saying a word, without him taking his eyes off of me. the right thing to do was to order the strawberry milkshake. you see, the bamerette or bamer cafeteria is put together in this pink and baby-blue code. the tables are fake pink marble, the chairs are (coral) pink and the booths and stools are upholstered in aquamarine patent-leather. mirrors behind the bar and wooden panels, colums dressed in mirrors too. each table has a small flowerpot with polyester rose-buttons. now you get it: it was either the strawberry shake or a medias de seda cocktail. ordering a cocktail at noon in a hundredpercent family ambiance cafeteria seemed vulgar. the waiter brought my beautiful pink milkshake (with a touch of cinnammon), i took the slick little silver flask out of my coat pocket. voilà. strawberry vodka shake.

we kept on saying nothing. i avoided his eyes and took a sip from the baby-blue straw. he grabbed his pack of commanders and offered me one. i took it, tapped each side on the table, put it between my lips. he took out his lighter and lit my commander (just when the tip was burnt, the red gurgling, switch on the background: a supermellow rendering of part time lover (oh so mellow, highschool reunion mellow), i puffed and put it in his mouth. we repeated the sequence, but this time i kept my commander.

at the middle of his cig he said:

-look, it stopped raining without even starting.