30th April 2024. 1 min read (Poetry)
The frown on her face was disturbing
Was she unhappy to serve her customers
Or just with me
One of her loyal fans who pays for her bills
Or has the business been too good
That another order is a bore
The eyes battled at me, not winking, mind you but a sort of detestable look
I feared for a moment that my favourite dish would be ruined
For it is known that good vibes would only flow from the heart to the hands of a happy cook
To result in a delectable dish
But she was going through the daily grind, grumpy and possibly angry
Neither grateful nor contented nor at peace
Then she jabbed at her phone to take a shot of my payment code
Unwillingly, no eye contact, no thank you, no smile
She threw her head back as if to ask what’s the next order from the customer behind
My soupy dish came, smoking hot, and filled near the brim
With no concern for customers who may be old or feeble and have an unsteady gait
A high chance of being scalded and creating a disastrous scene
The dish tasted mediocre and lacked joy as expected
Coloured by the experience from inception of the order
In my world of gustation, the food was a failure
As it was delivered with unhappy hands to an expecting customer
Who was made to feel undeserving of a good meal
One more chance? Not quite. That was the third time
She needs a vacation badly, to introspect and heal from all the busyness of work
That has taken her joy, her passion and her purpose
Until a happy face shows up again, there is always a better prospect I believe
It appears thst you were referring to your encounter with the popular spinach soup stall holder. I can feel and understand your emotions expressed in this poem as you tolerated and bore the brunt of her crude behaviour. Thank you for your composure and patience in the face of such misdemeanor. Hope she lives to become a better and cheerful person in due course so as not to suffer any adverse consequences to her health by the negative emotions displayed by her.