Revolving Doors

So, I’ve been in the ranting mode of late. Forgive me for being such an ardent Benitez follower to end up being so very venomous with my words. But wait. Just before I completely stop ranting, I hope you understand that the frustrations are just too prickly to let go of unnoticed. There are three soaps I love to hate; The Quarellsomes, The Snobs and The Liars in that exact order. The world would be a dull place without them but I just can’t stand them. Is the bad me beating the good me into submission? I think not. In fact I know not. I still flash my mechanical smile too often that viewers might find annoying in the long run but again I thought a smile would be the mother of all signs that things are all too well in my world. I still think they are. Or do I just wish them to always be!

 

Well last week while I was downing coffee at Baldwin's, this lady dressed like she had just successfully bargained with one of our notorious Judges to put away another of those chicken thieves for sometime served up with the occassional hard labour, walked in and asked rather too politely to share a table with me. Being the gentleman I can be, I put on a smile (I bet it was a grin) and didn’t object. I haven’t even described what she looked like yet. Because if I do, I might have to role up Gisele Bundchen, Gwyneth Paltrow, Salma Hayek and Alek Wek into one. You get the mix, don’t you? Having to accurately describe every inch of leg, ear, lip, nose, et al, I'd go on forever. It’s no enviable task. I'll be honest with you, I had lust written all over my face and etched into my frontal lobes must have been some naughty thoughts. So I tried so very hard to control the 'Adam' in me and put up a conversation without having to play around with the spoon or shuffle my feet like I was possessed. She said she was a consultant. That all I heard and not the words that trailed. Apart from the word 'saviour' but that was after 6 or so minutes I presume. That was how taken up I was by her! I tried to console myself that saviour was part of the lengthy name of the firm she was 'consulting' for. Strange name I thought. Curious to know whether I had heard her right, I asked her to repeat herself. I wasn't however prepared for what I heard thereafter.  This time I heard Bible, Jesus, Worship and saviour all mentioned in the same line. The last I heard was that gut wrenching 'are you saved?' question. I don’t know what stopped me from losing my cool this time though I'm not the kind blessed or rather cursed with the proverbial short fuse. I calmly answered no and gathered my belongings, strewn all over the table and fled for the counter to clear my bill.

 

What pained me the most was leaving my half-empty cup of coffee behind and not the chance of getting to know this heavenly (pun intended) work of art.

I generally have distaste for such kinds of people. Not because I'm evil through and through but for how often they can kill your moment of hard earned joy, like that great cup of coffee, and for that we shall always be at odds. Always!

So you realise I'm not ranting after all, don’t you? I haven't been lavish but decisively economical with my distaste which must be a positive sign. But I can't promise not to go over the top when I encounter one of those many who preach by the roadside while making a mockery of PA systems. Or the next time I take a Bell ('For A Great Night and a Good Morning' is its slogan!) or two and wake up with a throbbing headache. Maybe I need help anyway if this qualifies to be mild ranting.

  And for those who have been desperate to know whether my quest for a better March is still on course, I’m sorry to report that I’ve withdrawn my investment into a relationship that has consistently posted loses of gargantuan proportions. Maybe it has a lot to do with the advent of revolving doors in my life. 

Now I truly love my life.