Park Bench Society

I decided to sit on the veranda
section of the café protected from the rain by a white colored canopy
and chose the farthest side of the table from the sidewalk to avoid the
rain. Not really in a hurry to be served I looked across the street
watching wet grass on a small park turned shinier from the rain.
Overlooking the park my eyes caught a window display of an interior
design gallery. It showed a white themed bedroom décor of a massive
light colored teakwood bed softened by sheets, down pillows and
comforter all in white. My wandering mind then was so quick to build an
imaginary setting of its own. One was an illustration of a tropical
setting with ocean breeze flowing through an opened window blowing at a
white see – through curtain. Inside is a teak paneled floor bedroom in
some hidden villa in Canggu, Bali
surrounded by rice fields and a view of a small river. Contrary to the
tropical setting, other images that popped up from that “all white”
window display were clips from TV commercials for either an air
condition product or sanitary napkins for women. I couldn’t really help
it of coming up with these latter pictures since it was an occupational
hazard from working in an ad agency. Commercial for these type of
products tend to highlight the whiteness of things to portray freshness
and cleanness. Strange that since I walked past this café I felt
attacked by this color starting with the white chalked menu list,
tablecloth, white lily, canopy and that bedroom décor display. Anyhow,
I prefer the tropical picture over the TV commercial ones as it gave me
a quick get away window from the damp wet autumn day as it was that day.

The
green tropical picturesque was shattered when the waitress came over to
take my order. She was wearing an oversize white shirt (again that
color) but wrapped thankfully in a black apron with front pockets
filled with order book and a pen. I asked for a double espresso to
speed up my caffeine
intake for the day and asked her to come back later while I browsed the
menu. My espresso came and I asked if she could give me a small cut of
lime skin to put on my coffee. She came back with two small pieces on a
white small plate. I learned this from an old Italian man years ago on
how to make an espresso richer in flavor.

I studied the menu and saw lemon cheesecake
again which was slightly more expensive than the plain cheesecake,
obviously. I was always one that went for the old fashioned way when it
came to food and drinks so I started to automatically think of ordering
the plain one. The way I run my life was complicated enough and I could
use a few basic simple way of living like a plain bagel instead of a
cinnamon taste one or a cold beer instead of those colorful designer
cocktails.

However, sitting there and staring again at the clean
white tablecloth I felt I was entering a comfort zone that was long ago
forgotten. So all of a sudden this out of the ordinary thought came
over me and I told the waitress to bring me the lemon cheesecake. While
waiting for my order I took out my shag tobacco and rolling paper . My finger started to do the art of rolling the thin white paper and making it into a thin cigarrete.

The waitress came back with my
cheesecake. I looked at it and it was prettier to look at than the
ordinary one with gradient of yellowish color on the white cheese
surface. The twist of lemon taste on my tongue felt like a fresh witty
surprise over the usual stand alone cheese taste. As I took more bites
I felt the fresh sweet taste was arousing some long forgotten senses
inside. Savoring the lemon cheese taste, sniffing the aroma of strong
espresso mixed with a scent of lime while enjoying the whiteness around
me was like slouching in a giant comfortable sofa, it felt like home.

As I sat there absorbing all these, the rain has stopped. It was home but in a different world. It was like going scuba diving
in that tropical place, seeing the beauty of the colorful marine lives
and an underwater flower garden made of coral reefs. The world
separated by open water and an oxygen tank, the deeper you go the more
beautiful it was. It was a dangerous playground unless you are an
expert diver in the hand of an experience dive master.

I tossed a few bills to pay for everything and left the café. Walking across the small park I kicked some reddish autumn leaves
lying on the green carpet of wet grass. Some raindrops still rested on
the leaves like teardrops hanging on a pair of sad eyes. Kicking the
leaves made the water splashed on my shoes and I carried those
teardrops with me as I walked away. Sitting on a wet iron park bench
l looked back at the café. I thought about the options, weighing
possibilities of living between two worlds. I knew my next stop would
be home, the one in my world.

I would miss my lemon cheesecake
even when the taste continued to linger on my taste bud. I even knew
that I would miss it still as I bite into it the next time. This was
like a secret love affair between two characters on two different story
frames of the same comic page. Sharing the same space but separated by
two different stories. Unification could only be decided by the
almighty illustrator.

I then realized that I too wore a white
shirt over a pair of washed out jeans that day. Another long forgotten
habit of my preferred attire for a simple look which strangely I put on
again that rainy autumn day. I continued my walk home and wondering
whether my closet would have enough space to hang my white shirts and a
diving wetsuit.