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 That was what it says in white chalk on the menu board standing on the pavement in front of this café announcing the special package for the day. I felt raindrops fell heavier on my head and was deciding whether to go inside escaping the rain or just continued walking. I peeked inside and saw empty white linen clothed tables decorated with a white lily in a small crystal like vase on top of every table.
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.
Watching my cigarette burned by a Zippo I started to think is it curiosity for the blended taste of cheese and lemon or is it simply boredom for the ordinary? The “great white attack” somehow already gave me a hugging – like feeling of coziness and now the thought of lemon taste over a traditional delicatessen like cheese charmed my curiosity.
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.
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