Hissing

We went for a lovely meal near to the airport. Well, I say lovely, but what I mean is that it looked lovely. Tamara went for what we know as ‘Pancake Rolls’, quite large ones but Jeff helped out. Jeff went for steak, rice and a poached egg. They brought us small warm buns while we waited, which I thought was a nice touch. The room was air conditioned and the tables well spaced out. We could have eaten outside, but as usual I was warm and asked to go into the cool air. The menu was well laid out and if I had been well I would have gone for the Spanish omellette. Jeff’s meal was huge, Tamara’s was not and I went for the fruit salad. A nice combination of two fruits; Pineapple and Water Melon. I manage half. I felt sorry for Tam, and then her main course arrived. Like Jeff’s meal, this was another large plate of rice complete with a poached egg. “That look’s good”, I thought. I then turned back to my fruit salad. Jeff’s phone rang, it was Patricia. They wanted to meet us prior to my flight back to the United Kingdom.

Michael and Patricia joined us at the restaurant and I offered them food. They declined but accepted water. I hissed. Not at my friends, but at the waiter. The waiter who had been walking at full stride some 15 feet away, stopped in his tracks. He turned and moved swiftly to our table. Michael and Patricia, Jeffers and Tam were rolling with laughter. Out loud and with contorted bodies. One with her head face down into her arms, another leaning back in his chair with his head leaning back further and looking at the ceiling, another wiping her eyes. They had never heard me hissing, in fact I suspect they had never heard a White man hiss in their entire life.