She Just Kept Stirring

I can’t remember whether it was in the realm of quantum physics or anthropology where I heard the phrase “you can’t observe something without changing whatever you are observing.” I wandered whether Mel would work “differently” while I watched her from the corner of the bustling café during lunch. But she didn’t. She even forgot that I was there; serving the same customers from the various levels of the Innovations building, including me, the young girl who worked on level 2.

As I approached Innocravings café to begin my fieldwork (as I will call it) I spotted Mel serving three old women who were seated outside. They appeared to be dressed in their Sunday best, sporting pearls, gloves and lace collars. Each one of them were holding their mugs up towards their mouths, taking a loud sip every now and then, allowing their red lip stick to stain the white glass. Each lady looked absolutely 'fabulous', nibbling away at her cookie, losing crumbs amid her white chin hair. Mel was smiling pleasantly at them, making small talk as she wiped their table clean, just as they had demanded.

A passer by was nice enough to open the large entrance door for Mel, as she balanced a pile of dirty dishes between the palms of her hands and her chin. She plonked them onto the bench for Michael, the boss, to take inside to be washed. Mel’s smile also washed away as she leaned her body back and stretched out her hand to grab the large garbage bag, taking it out to the huge industrial bin. I considered following her, but decided not to, thinking that I may lose my seat.

Despite the passing through of numerous customers all conversations remained pretty much the same:
Man with beard: How much is the red curry?
Mel: $5.80 thanks
Man with beard: Umm, can I please pay you tomorrow?
Mel: Yeah okay, I’ll put it on your tab. Neeeeext!
Man in suit: What is in this salad?
Mel: Ricotta cheese, pumpkin and English spinach
Man in suit: how much?
Mel: small or large?
Man in suit: How much are each?
Mel: the small is $4.80 and the large is $5.60
Man in suit ponders for a log while
Mel: Sir please move aside.
Man moves out of the queue, still contemplating

…

This lunchtime fiasco actually made me feel rather peckish so I walked up to the canteen, raising my arm to grab Mel’s attention. “How’s it going?” “I don’t know, Ill let you know when I finish the article.” “Sorry I’m so boring” she exclaimed. I suddenly asked her to wait, running back to my table to grab my note pad. I didn’t want to miss a word. “I’m so hungry.” “What would you like?” she responded. “Uh the usual please, with balsamic vinegar.” She filled up a plastic container to the brim (how I like it) with cubed pumpkin and ricotta cheese. I paid for my salad, receiving change of 50c. I requested that it be put towards my tab at which Mel laughed. “Is that all your going to pay off today?” “Yeah, I can’t afford any more than this anyway.” She laughed a little more.

My friend Jack recognised my bag and sunglasses placed solitarily on the chair and table, indicating that they had been reserved. Naturally he offered himself a seat, although I was unsure whether I wanted company while conducting my “fieldwork”. “What are you doing?” he asked when he saw my pencil case and note pad. I explained the assignment. “Isn’t that a little stalker-ish?” “Nu nu she has signed a permission slip, its legit.”

At that moment two tall men strolled into the café. They appeared rather sharp; wearing tailored black suits, leather shoes and what I envisioned as Burberry watches. I could tell that Mel was also taken back. Rather than asking them right off what they “would like” (as she had to every other customer) she allowed them plenty of time. I focused on this scenario, trying to think of something “interesting” to write for my assignment, for which I was becoming desperate. I came up with this: A husband in the 1950’s spontaneously bringing home a work colleague home for dinner. The wife would be expected to serve dinner of course (in this case it was Mel), while staying out of their way. After all, they would probably be engaging in intelligent work conversations that woman had no business in! I looked over to what Mel was preparing for them. One man had ordered a steak sandwich with plenty of gravy and the other had asked for a roast beef roll drenched in barbeque sauce. She held the leg-of-lamb with her little pitchfork, shoving the meat between two buns. “Very hyper masculine” I thought to myself. I realise that my little metaphoric “tale” is probably a result of looking in too deep and sounds absurd, but I couldn’t help it, I needed something interesting to write about this very mundane lunch hour at Innocravings.

By this time Kristina had also pulled up a chair to join Jack and I, who had explained why I was taking notes. “What type of assign…” I ignored Kristina once I saw one of the old ladies from outside calling over to Mel from the coffee counter. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but they seemed dispersed in their conversation. When she left I walked over asking what they had just conversed about. “Oh she had a special request." “Care to share?” I asked. She laughed asking if I was serious. “Yeah, of course, I need every detail!” “Well she asked to not have the ice cream in her milk shake blended.” She was laughing by now, concluding that I must have been very bored to reduce my assignment to such minor, insignificant details.

“She is just stirring…and stirring…and stirring,” repeated Jack as I sat at my table devouring my lunch. I asked him to keep an eye out for me while I ate. “Hey why don’t you write that the guy that she is serving asks her out?” “They would so know that it is made up” I replied, although I was a little tempted to make up something in the essence of excitement. “Well then, I am sure that the marker would be interested to know that she just kept stirring…and stirring…and stirring…”