Lactose Free, Gluten Free
“Flat
Semi-skimmed
Soya
Cappuccino
With a splash of hazelnut
If you
Please?”
I don’t please
But okay
“Do you have anything
Gluten AND
Dairy free?”
Dust? Yeah sure
All over this place
Lick your finger and wipe it
Across the till
Mmmmm…
“No sorry just gluten free I’m afraid”
She sighs and shakes her head
“Will you ask and see
If you can get something in then please?
I mean, there’s
absolutely
Nothing I can eat here!”
Then don’t eat… drink
The contents of this soup bowl mug
And get the hell out of here
“Sorry about that
I’ll say to the manager.”
Money please
Thank you and beat it
“Well I really hope you do”
“Thanks ever so much
We’ll bring it over to you.”
Off she twists with her blotchy red
Chest and neck from the anticipated stress
Of the order
Puckered pissed off lips
Fuming red
Handbag bulging full of
Dried banana slices and almonds
Packaged and purchased next door
Seconds before seeping in here
Adrenalin fueled
Knowing all too well we wouldn't have
Anything to suit her specific dietary needs
As she comes in every Tuesday morning
Complaining about the same
Bloody thing
A routine
Hackles-up, aggression filled
Perfectly satisfying meeting
For us both.
Over to the window she totters
Parking her dairy free rear
By the window in the red ‘comfy chair’
God forbid if someone sits in it first
That too would be my fault of course
Resulting in the lack of a five pence tip
Which, if earned, would be
Placed precisely to the left of the
Café logo stamp
On the left hand side of her
Lip-stick stained mug
Upon the stem of the teaspoon
Pushed beyond the edge of the saucer
Precariously balanced
With the delicious hope that
It’d fall when clearing the table
And I’d have to chase that hard
Earned coin across the
Crumb coated floor
Before flicking it into the jar
To be split five ways.
Little Miss Flat Cap
Was indeed a pain in the arse
Everything about her exuded
A panic of pernickety flawlessness
It was pretty obvious
She wasn't getting any
I was about 95% sure of it
The way she’d lick those scorching lips
After interrogating me with tedious questions
About cakes, ingredients, the weather forecast
Train times, cures for headaches, insomnia
Expecting me to be her very own
Tailored encyclopedia or tourist information guide
But never would I ever provide the
Correct sum of information
Or desired depth of detail
To please her needs
Never would I fail to disappoint
She could rely on me for this.
Sea blue, spicy eyes
Would roll 360 degrees
Within her groomed, hairspray sculpted head
Breathing would deepen, lengthen
Sharpen to form
Perfect hollow groans
Tailed by rehearsed statements
Of the negative variety
With suggestions for personal development.
One day my love
I will satisfy you.
Over she slinks
Unfortunately for her she needs to
Pass me on the way out
I make sure
To ruin her day further
With an arse licking smile
And a…
Thank you so much! Have a lovely day!”
“Right then. Thanks and remember
To talk to your manager about the food
It really is ridiculous!”
Flickering pupils meet mine
Blushing cheeks radiate
“Right-o! See you next Tuesday!”
With a wave and a wink
I finish her off
Disgusted
She gasps and waltzes out the door
Trying her best
To hide that
Smile.
©Shay Crinkle 2014
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