The café is bright. Wow. The lampstand at the very corner, with a round yellow lamp hanging by a twisted wire, is exactly what I saw in a shop a few days back.
The entrance was quite big, with leaves falling from the top.
We took a round table at the very corner because it had a window.
"What would you like to order, Mr. Lost?" she asked with a slight chuckle.
"Whatever you want," I said, shrugging my shoulders.
"Well, that's not how you tell what you want to eat. That's a very annoying reply. Just like you," she shot back.
"Wait, what—I'm annoying?" I tried to sound arrogant but ended up laughing.
"What would you like to order, ma'am?" the waitress approached us.
"This sir says anything will do for him. And for me… one iced coffee, a regular Margherita pizza, white sauce pasta—add button mushrooms in it, please—and…"
"Why are you staring at me?" she asked, catching me while I stared at her listing food meant for I don't know how many people. It was just the two of us, and she completely excluded me from the menu.
"Um.. can you eat all that?" I muttered slowly, because I knew what was going to happen to me. HELP!!
"Are you really questioning my appetite, Mr.? And that too after a long afternoon where you've kept me starving? That's not how you treat someone."
And then she continued lecturing me after placing her order—including a sandwich.
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