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Breaking Glass In A Café
In which I reveal the dangers of banging on glass in a café.
I mislaid my glasses on a hillwalk. Bit of a crisis in the life of a wonky eyed woman. Luckily, I was able to trace them to a kind woman who had given us a lift after the hillwalk.
Said kind woman was on her way into town for an appointment and offered to meet us and arrange the handover. We arranged to meet her at a small café tucked behind a shopping centre.
In the Cafe
I was the first to arrive and settled myself at one of the small tables. I threw a glance at the bowls and plates in the display case, but as it was near the end of the day, there were only scrapings in each one, so I asked for tea.
The owner seemed friendly and down to earth, all, 'What can I get for ye,' and 'There you go now, grand and hot.'
The kind woman arrived, the handover was done and we were all friendliness and chat. Then I saw Husband outside the window. Just standing still. Not moving. Why wasn't he coming inside?
Banging on the Glass
I was too wonky eyed to spot the phone glued to his ear, so I rapped on the window to attract his attention. The noise of my fist on the window made me jump. It must have made my husband jump too, because when he came in, he said.
'What was all that banging for?'
Photo Description: You can see the window of a cafe nestled in a red brick wall, adn there are chairs outside. It looks not unlike the cafe I visited.
A little red cheeked, I decided I better fess up to the owner.
'Sorry about the banging. Hope I didn't do any lasting damage.'
I punctuated my sentence with a little laugh, hoping to keep the mood light. I expected a forgiving response:
'Ah, don't worry about it. There's thick glass on that window.'
Or a banterful response.
'I thought you were trying to wake the dead.'
But her response was.
'Well, it's a good thing you didn't damage it, because if you had, I'd have bust you.'
I never returned to that café. I value my life and limbs.
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