-I am taking a cigarette break, he briefly announced as soon as he stepped into the busy kitchen.
Everybody looked so absorbed by their duties so that he managed to get away avoiding any possible questions from his colleagues. In fact he was not even a smoker. But nobody knew or cared if he was or wasn’t one anyhow.
He was a just week there and he did not had any intentions to stay longer than that either. He never felt like a natural born waiter. Not that someone is particularly designed for that job but it seems that a lot of people manage quite well to take orders, deliver trays and smile at the same times something that John himself had found incompatible.
He was rather forgetful, relatively clumsy and absolutely incapable of performing any facial expression including smiling. He always looked kind of blunt, so that he could manage to stay in the shadow, without ever been noticed. The very few people that gave him a single look,excluding his mother, had described him as; a long thin man with a glass gaze of an unfathomable value like his entire diet was based on antidepressants.
As it was indeed. His appetite was already poor when he started taking those little green and white pills a month ago on doctor’s orders, even though he was never diagnosed with any kind of depression. In fact they were just the standard medication you probably get prescribed after been found inside the gas oven of your own apartment and repeatedly refuse to talk about it.
The fruits of a slightly more careful medical examination could brought in light some not so deep cuts a bit over his wrists and minor liver damage from several overdoses of paracetamol.
He was not about to discuss that to anybody anyhow. John in fact never talked unless it was absolutely necessary and even then without any signs of pleasure. His entire vocabulary consisted by some “yes, no, I don’t know, I really don’t, maybe, I am tired, can we skip that, I ‘d rather not to, I am bored, sorry” in random order.
In contradiction of his verbal manners his best friend was an extremely talkative and expressive girl that lived in the other end of town. They had met once in a flight to Lisbon and since then they had developed a strange kind of friendship that occasionally brought them in the same bed without clothes.
Most of the times as they helped themselves to find their stuff back they were avoiding to look at each others face. Mechanically they would sit at the kitchen table of John’s house drinking some cold coffee (the remaining of what a few hours earlier was a full warm pot), looking at old kitchen clock, fragments of frozen times.
Skipping all the pretences they could both admit it was out of mutual attraction and affection. But as the last few months miss young Adeline became the wife of a well known business man things got a bit perplexed and then they had decided not to see each other for a while.
Anyhow a couple of weeks after the wedding Adeline had mysteriously disappeared from her husband’s villa in South France, living no traces behind her than a hand written note with only the word: 'Whatever'. John haven't heard a thing since then too and deep inside was a bit worried but way to self absorbed to notice.
Everybody looked so absorbed by their duties so that he managed to get away avoiding any possible questions from his colleagues. In fact he was not even a smoker. But nobody knew or cared if he was or wasn’t one anyhow.
He was a just week there and he did not had any intentions to stay longer than that either. He never felt like a natural born waiter. Not that someone is particularly designed for that job but it seems that a lot of people manage quite well to take orders, deliver trays and smile at the same times something that John himself had found incompatible.
He was rather forgetful, relatively clumsy and absolutely incapable of performing any facial expression including smiling. He always looked kind of blunt, so that he could manage to stay in the shadow, without ever been noticed. The very few people that gave him a single look,excluding his mother, had described him as; a long thin man with a glass gaze of an unfathomable value like his entire diet was based on antidepressants.
As it was indeed. His appetite was already poor when he started taking those little green and white pills a month ago on doctor’s orders, even though he was never diagnosed with any kind of depression. In fact they were just the standard medication you probably get prescribed after been found inside the gas oven of your own apartment and repeatedly refuse to talk about it.
The fruits of a slightly more careful medical examination could brought in light some not so deep cuts a bit over his wrists and minor liver damage from several overdoses of paracetamol.
He was not about to discuss that to anybody anyhow. John in fact never talked unless it was absolutely necessary and even then without any signs of pleasure. His entire vocabulary consisted by some “yes, no, I don’t know, I really don’t, maybe, I am tired, can we skip that, I ‘d rather not to, I am bored, sorry” in random order.
In contradiction of his verbal manners his best friend was an extremely talkative and expressive girl that lived in the other end of town. They had met once in a flight to Lisbon and since then they had developed a strange kind of friendship that occasionally brought them in the same bed without clothes.
Most of the times as they helped themselves to find their stuff back they were avoiding to look at each others face. Mechanically they would sit at the kitchen table of John’s house drinking some cold coffee (the remaining of what a few hours earlier was a full warm pot), looking at old kitchen clock, fragments of frozen times.
Skipping all the pretences they could both admit it was out of mutual attraction and affection. But as the last few months miss young Adeline became the wife of a well known business man things got a bit perplexed and then they had decided not to see each other for a while.
Anyhow a couple of weeks after the wedding Adeline had mysteriously disappeared from her husband’s villa in South France, living no traces behind her than a hand written note with only the word: 'Whatever'. John haven't heard a thing since then too and deep inside was a bit worried but way to self absorbed to notice.
____
He was now walking to the parking lot almost determined to leave his job. The monstrosity of that couple and their child had upset him. The woman’s nose was big and pointy. As she was screaming she looked like a mad witch. Her husband on the other hand gave the impression of a savage, despite his expensive clothes. His beard had food chumps, his veins were pumping almost out of his skin and his eyes were red from the wine.
The young boy screaming for some ice cream almost looked like an angel comparing to his parents.
He sat down with his head between his knees to relax. After a few minutes the cold night breeze and the quietness of his surroundings seemed to take effect on him. He looked around to the empty parking lot. The few cars that where parked there tonight were ridiculously expensive.
To hell with this job murmured as he crossed the parking lot and start walking home.
The young boy screaming for some ice cream almost looked like an angel comparing to his parents.
He sat down with his head between his knees to relax. After a few minutes the cold night breeze and the quietness of his surroundings seemed to take effect on him. He looked around to the empty parking lot. The few cars that where parked there tonight were ridiculously expensive.
To hell with this job murmured as he crossed the parking lot and start walking home.
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