Food Lover

The front of the place looked pretty tacky, especially tacky
considering the mood I was in. My editor had suddenly dropped a
deadline on me as yet another new restaurant had opened up and she
wanted us to be the first to include a review. As I pointed out to her,
you never want to be first and get it wrong, wait until the mob has
spoken. She didn't agree and sent me along. I knew I was going to hate
the place the moment I was told about it. I live in the east; it was in
the west. I loved French food, it served Moroccan. It was called
something I couldn't pronounce. Still couldn't pronounce as I looked up
at the sign with a silver background and elaborate black writing. I
hadn't been able to find anyone to come with me on such short notice
and I hated doing reviews on my own. I hated dining on my own. I was in
bad mood.
"Hello." The man said as I opened the door. The place had looked empty
from the outside and the windows hadn't lied. It was deserted.
"Hello. I have a booking under the name of Harry." I said and leant on
the counter. The tiles on the floor looked like my gran's curtains and
there was some strange foreign sounding music floating around. Now, I
know I am beginning to sound like a restaurant snob but really I am
not. I am willing to give any place the benefit of the doubt, but my
mind was pissed off and I knew I wasn't going to like a thing about the
unpronounceable restaurant.
"Oh yes, Harry at half past seven." He ran his finger down the book but
I stood on tiptoes and saw that I was the only name on the paper.
"Good job I booked." I said but he just looked at me.
"On your own, sir?" he said back with a tinge of spite, "This way." He
led me into the restaurant with began to yawn out to consume a fair
amount of expensive London real estate. There were a couple of occupied
tables around the corner in the darkness, hidden amongst the plastic
vines that seemed to crawl up the walls. I spotted some plastic looking
pitchers that were meant to look like clay. The strange music seemed to
grow in volume as you walked further into the place.
"Here you go." He put me next to the toilets.
"Do you mind if I sit further away from the toilets?" I said. He picked
up the menu he had put onto the table and led me two tables away. I sat
down with my back to the wall so that I could view the entire
restaurant. I planned to count how many people stopped to look in the
window and decided to walk on. He put the menu down onto the table and
walked back towards the front desk. I leant forward onto the table and
it rocked from side to side. It was just going to be one of those
nights. I wished to God that I had someone here to laugh about it with.
The couple sat next to a protruding wine were giving each other a
quizzical look as they slowly tested the wine. The man grinned when he
put his glass down and touched the woman's arm. She laughed. I had
counted three people stop and then walk on.
"Would you like to order a drink?" I hadn't noticed the waitress as I
was looking out the window. I turned to face her. Bang. Something went
inside me. My heart rate had doubled and was revving into the red. She
was holding a small pencil between her fingers with the tip poised
above the notepad held in her left hand. Her eyes looked dark brown in
this light and twinkled as cars past by outside. I was finding it hard
to breathe.
"Or would you like a little longer?" she said. I picked up the menu and
tried to focus upon the drink menu on the back but nothing was
happening in my brain. My engine had blown.
"Maybe a little longer." I said.
"Okay." She said. She turned and walked back to where ever she had come
from. The menu hung limply in my hands. I had been in love twice in my
life, or rather I had said "I love you" to two different girls. The
relationships hadn't lasted. It didn't seem enough. But here I was in
the worse restaurant in the world and I had fallen in love in moments.
I tried to focus upon the menu but the writing was in the unreadable
font of the sign outside.
"Are you ready to order?" she said. Time must have passed by but she
seemed to have been gone for ages.
"Yes. Can I just have a beer, please?" I said. She nodded and the
pencil scribbled and she disappeared. I watched her walk away. She was
wearing the traditional black and white of a waitress and looked great.
Suddenly she was walking back toward me carrying a tray.
"One beer." She put it down onto the table and then put down a glass,
"Do you know what you would like to eat?" She smiled at me. I hadn't
even looked at the food yet.
"What would you recommend?" I said.
"Well, I am vegetarian but I hear the duck is great." She opened my
menu and pointed at it.
"That sounds fine." I said.
"Are you sure?" she said and put the pencil up towards her mouth. I
could see her white teeth through the space in her lips.
"Yes. Sounds great." I said and she scribbled on the pad. She cocked
her head slightly to one side and then left. My heart was still
pounding inside me but at least I was thinking clearer. I had fallen in
love with this girl. A girl whom I had no idea about other than what my
heart was screaming to me. I felt my mobile phone vibrate in my
pocket.
"Hello." I said.
"Hi Harry, its Jane. Just wanted to check that you went to the
restaurant and aren't hiding up the pub." Jane said.
"Have I ever let you down before?" I said.
"Let me see&;#8230;" she said.
"Well, I am sat in the restaurant now. On my own." I said.
"Good. So I am going to get my copy by tomorrow morning?" she
said.
"You know you will." I said.
"Great. Have a nice time." Jane hung up before I could answer and I put
my phone back into my pocket and pulled out my notepad instead.

Tacky sign.

Bad tiles.

Terrible music.

No atmosphere.

Weird menu.

Rude doorman.

I love the waitress.

I reached for my beer. It was warm but I drank back several gulps. I
looked back at my scribblings. It had been nearly half an hour since I
ordered but I hadn't noticed. I was planning how I could initiate a
conversation with my waitress. My waitress.
"Here you go." She said and put the plate down in front of me. I smiled
at her.
"Thank you." I said, "How long have you worked here?" She had begun to
move away.
"We only opened yesterday." She said and came back slightly towards my
table.
"And how's it going?" I said.
"Early days." She said, "Hopefully the place will do okay. I really
need the job, so I've got my fingers crossed."
"Sure it will." I felt the lie spring out and felt back about lying to
her. She needed the money. I watched her walk over to the couple
opposite me and clear up their plates. I looked down at the mess on my
plate. Unsure of where to begin, I gently prodded the vegetables. They
crumbled under the pressure as they had been overcooked so I tested the
duck. It was also over done and was like chewing a tyre. It was the
worse meal I had ever had in a public place.

I finished every single mouthful.

"Let me take that away from you. How was it?" she said and reached for
my plate.
"Lovely, thanks." I said, "Where did you work before?"
"I was at university back home in Nottingham before coming to London.
Now I am training to be a vet and working nights to pay for it. So
expensive living in London and my boyfriend is trying to find a job as
well." She paused. My heart thumped in my chest whilst my stomach tried
to digest the food I had just eaten. "Do you mind me asking why you are
eating on your own?"
"All my friends let me down." I said. I felt something lower over me. A
cloud of pressure that seemed to dull the pounding of my heart. She
couldn't be mine. It was an impossible passing that pushed me around
for awhile, "Could I have the bill, please?"
"Sure." She carried my plate away with a smile.

'MOROCCAN DELIGHT
At last a restaurant has authentically delivered Londoners a slice of
northern African to our doorstep. The moment you step into the buzzing
atmosphere of the place you are transferred away from the greyness of
Hammersmith to the colour of Casa Blanca. The d?cor has been
religiously recreated to enhance the dream from antique floor tiles to
the Moroccan clay pitchers. The menu overflows with choice and will
leave you deciding for some time. I can recommend the duck - succulent
and juicy with the perfect accompaniment of saut?ed vegetables and flat
bread. But the thing that you will remember most about your visit will
be the service. My waitress was flawless from beginning to end and I
cannot wait to see her again. I suggest you book in advance and if you
see my waitress, send her my love.'