2006-08-08
The Interruption
He walks up to the green luxury lounge sofas I'm sitting at. His gait is short, quick and stiff, prepared to catch any drop of tea he might displace from the trying-to-look-like-porcelain plastic tea cup and saucer in his hand.
I look at him from my little corner of the sofa and note his thinning hair, thin nose, and thin shoulders. A teacher, probably, the kind you knew was interminably old although the flesh refused to catch up.
I am seated on one end of the sofa, centimetres away from one of the armchairs positioned perpedicular to the orientation of the sofa (very close and conversation conducive). The two seats frame a central coffee table, where our tea sits. He comes and positions himself nicely for the armchair, butt arrowed for touchdown. His severe eyes pierce mine - the would-be lounge company.
I fluster.
"Um, sorry sir, the seat's taken."
His voice is as screechy as his eyes look.
"BY WHO? WHERE? I DON'T SEE ANYTHING"
He makes a big show out of peering at the seat. Meanie.
I cringe, and try to explain that my friend left it a moment ago to get himself a refill.
He points to the space between me and a fellow visitor, "Does any one sit there?"
I jump at the opportunity to offer it to him, as well as the armchair on the far end, smiling as generously and hospitably as I can, hoping it could make up for the fact that he couldn't have his first-choice seat.
"THEN WHY DOESNT YOUR FRIEND SIT THERE?!"
I don't stop smiling - because my face finds itself paralyzed in surprise.
Mr Huffy straightens up royally, and proceeds to stand in front of the coffee table, sipping his tea, complete with an extended little finger.
My company returns, and re-possesses the contested ground. He looks at me questioningly.
I laugh sheepishly, and rub my forehead. Mr Huffy throws us a suspicious look - us, seated knee to knee. But the world stops mattering, as I lose myself in the arms of familiar company again.
nothing ever happens at 6:36 p.m.