One Apple A Day #95
Thirty minutes of queueing in a Starbucks. I love my job most of the time but not Today. I lost the count of how many times I wanted to leave. The only thing keeping me from running to a pub is the cheque waiting for me at the end of this job. Everyone thinks that being a P.I. is exciting. All action, danger and gorgeous girls. But that’s Hollywood. In real life, it is just a tedious work. I spend most of my days following someone who’s living his dull life. Making mine even more boring.
So here I am, I’ve been following this woman for the last three days. Her husband is sure she has an affair. So far, the only thing I can say is that she’s more patience, precise and regular than a Zen monk. Every day the same routine. She leaves at the same time in the morning. Then she walks to the same Starbucks before heading to her office where I would bet that she signs the entrance sheet at precisely the same time every day. Today was the same. She left her building at 8 am in her perfect blue tailleur. She walks for 7 minutes and enters the Starbucks. But Today something is wrong with one of the machine. The guys are slower than usual and, being peak time; a long queue develops quickly. She’s been waiting her turn for 30 long minutes. For the first time, I can spot a fissure in her perfectly built image. She keeps shifting position on her legs while she taps with her long nails on her bag. Nothing strange for someone who’s always on time. But there’s something different about her. It’s not only the delay. When she walks, she checks her watch every few minutes. I thought she was obsessed with time and it would be in line with the character. The fact is that she never checked the time once since she’s been queueing. I’m thinking about this when her turn finally arrived. She’s stepping to the counter when a man with a black suit cuts in front of her. She opens the mouth ready to shout something to the rude guy. I’m curious to hear what a controlled woman like her can say in a situation like this. But she doesn’t say a word. Before she can say anything, the man makes a sign with his fingers. The movement is so quick and subtle that it’s almost invisible. I can spot it only because I have the right visual angle and I’m a good observer. She immediately shuts her mouth. Her face is turning red. But she says nothing. What are you hiding lady?