The speakers not far above me was announcing the flight to Greece. I sat still on my bench and deeply inhaled the smoke from my Marlboro in the small aquarium - like smoking cubicle.

I looked at my watch and took a mental note of the time and calculating the time I have left before I required to hand in my boarding pass to that petite but full - bodied and sensual looking ground crew attendant with the high splitting body hugging qi pao dress. I decided that there is still enough time to look for a nice cozy corner table and order a cup of espresso.

I stood up from my bench and carrying my only hand carry luggage which is my backpack laptop case I walked toward the nearest pub and started to search for an empty corner table. I could immediately see all corner tables were empty as if they were waiting for me and watching me smoking myself to death in that see through glass cubicle. I chose the corner table located nearest to the gate and next to the Deli Shop. After ordering my single espresso I again heard the announcement for the flight to Greece.

My mind then formed a picture of one of the Greek island, Santorini and the blinding all white cubism buildings stacked on a towering cliff facing the sea. Opened window to a white cemented balcony with colorful flowers growing from a clay pot. The sound of seagulls was heard together with the sea breeze bringing the smell of the ocean onto the balcony and into the bedroom with oversize bed that has a slept - in look from the rumpled white sheets. The morning sun is accompanying a small breakfast table with white tablecloth and two cups of coffee and plates of toasted bread. I could see the image of butter and a stack of pancakes with maple syrup at one side of the table eagerly awaiting for whoever made it moments ago to taste the rich mix of flour and milk together with sweet honey.

My espresso came and momentarily disturb me from that nice imagery of morning breakfast at that terrace by the sea. I took small sip of my espresso and start looking around my corner table. I stop at the direction of the Deli Shop next to my table and could sniff the smell of the typical delicatessen products being display at the rack closest to me. My eyes then caught the sight of the name plate of the shop, PJ Deli.

I looked closer at the racks and could see a line of small bottled jams that were lining up on the top shelf of the rack. Looking very closely now at the line up bottles I could see a yellow color bottle of marmalade jam. As if knowing I was looking at it the marmalade bottle seemed to willingly opened its close cap and offered the sweet scent of fresh orange skin toward my direction. This flow of smell formed an intimate union of scents with my espresso which made my blood rush and almost unconsciously I started to deeply sniff my espresso as if I worship that small cup of coffee.

I knew now what to add to the white clothed breakfast table in the balcony facing the sea, a bottle of marmalade jam. That fresh marmalade scent will flow inside to the white sheet oversize bed and formed a perfect union with the left over intimate smell from the night before.

As I took my last sip I heard my flight was being announced. I stood up and walked toward that ground crew attendant who was busy checking the boarding pass of the passengers getting into the jetbrige. As the distance to where she stood became nearer, I wondered what she would looked like lying in that oversize bed. Her skin half covered with white sheet in an all white cubism style house by the sea, mixed with the scents of marmalade skin from the breakfast table in a white balcony blew in by the morning sea breeze.

Image Source: http://www.ikies.com/studios/studios1.jpg

Rainy afternoon, Starbuck Cafe. Sitting outdoor, full ashtray, half empty cup of espresso and can't remember what she's having. All this for the sake of the lack of park benches in the whole freaking city which in turn led to this stupid deep conversation about surrendering to consumerism and get trap in the segmented niche of black and white society for the simple pleasure of just hanging out to have stupid fun.

"living between two lines" she said, I can't really understand what that actually means. Is it because of the lack of private space provided by park benches where you could just sit alone for hours with your thoughts or long walks on the wide clean sidewalk for hours till you return to the same exact spot you started hours ago?. Whatever it is, for sure our beloved city of Jakarta doesn't have either one, park benches or clean nice sidewalk.

Come to think of it, its real pathetic to giving in to consumerism and having to go to a freaking public place where you're either black or white which in most cases means sometimes having to endure "the narcissism and self-conscious 100 percent genuine plastic" behavior just for a smoke and a quiet sit in the bench. What happens to the grey area where you're either black or white and just want to be you without the noise and sight pollution of the discount and new arrivals signs everywhere you go?.

I wonder when can she finds her park bench where she can look within from the outside and just observe ? I don't know the answer to that. In the mean time over at the next few table from ours there is a woman in red open turtle neck sweater sitting by herself and she seems to be using the Starbuck chair as her own private park bench and oblivion to her surrounding.