Passing Waves
The faint breeze blowing across the lightly populated patio did little to alleviate the thick stifling heat which permeated every inch of the summer air. Muggy, and stagnant, the moisture suffocated the patrons of Rick’s, a local pub of little importance. As he sat and watched the people milling by, Viktor was reminded of the humid atmosphere as condensation formed on his cold glass of that day’s daily special. Today, it was the pub’s own house lager, Citrus Breeze, which Viktor comfortably nursed. A crisp, light fare, with a slight tart aftertaste which left a dry feeling along one’s gums, perfect for pairing with a their turkey club and mixed greens: another of the daily specials.
Viktor frequented Rick’s often, for he found their company pleasant. They had a reasonable menu, good prices, and a courteous staff who would provide both conversation and silence when appropriate. A simple place, for a simple man like Viktor.
Today, Cecelia was Viktor’s waitress, and as usual she bounced from table to table, ensuring all was well, and providing the necessary top-ups. Despite the fog-like quality of the air, not a drop of perspiration beaded her brow. Apparently, Cecelia was immune to the viscuous fluid which surrounded her and her patrons, however, one could tell the heat was getting to her in other ways. Fresh lines creased under her eyes, and a slight flush was brushed over her cheeks reminiscent of faint rosy water colour. He energy, however, seemed little abated. She headed towards Viktor.
“Want another, Viktor?” she asked with cordial nod to his half-empty pint.
“Sure, Cecelia, this air is too thick to decline more refreshment. I am sure Rick will be pleased if the weather keeps up like this. Business has been a bit slower around here lately, maybe the sun will bring people back out.”
“I sure hope so, Viktor. He’s been pretty antsy the last few weeks, and the restaurant has actually been losing money. I’m worried, he might start letting people go if he cannot get more business pouring in.”
Viktor, pulled his glass to his lips, downed a fresh gulp, and looked up at Cecelia with a compassionate glance, “Don’t worry, Rick’s been in some scrapes before, but he has always managed. That’s just the way things are in the restaurant business. There are waves of business, followed by waves of downturn, but have no fear, things have a way of working out.”
“Everything works its way out, Viktor, but not always in the fashions intended. I just hope it works out my way. Let me know if you need anything more, I have to check on the other guests. Bye, Viktor.”
She turned and left heading towards the kitchen. Viktor turned back to the street and continued to watch the people moving to their intended destinations. He wondered, watching all the people pass by, whether any of those people would come back the same way they had gone, and if so, would he still be sitting there, watching them. People have a funny way of repeating the same actions over and over, like a rhythmic heart pumping. The city streets acted as both arteries and veins for the people, allowing them to traverse to and from their frequented spots. How very natural, thought Viktor pensively as he swallowed another gulp.
Viktor glanced down at his watch, ruminating on the time. It was five o-clock. The banks would be closing, and most of the shops in the area would begin to close their doors pretty soon, he had better finish off quickly if he wanted to avoid some of the closing time traffic. It was always the worst between five and six downtown, and in this heat, no one wanted to be stuck in traffic. Punctuating this thought, Cecelia sauntered out of the kitchen door with a fresh tray of drinks ready for consumption. As she made her way passed Viktor’s table, his fresh Citrus Breeze was placed in front of him, already sweaty and pouring fresh dew onto his coaster. He polished off the remainder of his previous glass, and set about enjoying his newest addition.
Tomorrow’s daily special was another of the house brews. A darker ale, with subtle nutty qualities, and a rich coffee bouquet, it was called, Queztacoatl and featured aztec art, most likely a rendition of their calendar. Viktor fancied most of the house brews, but of all them, Queztacoatl was by-far his most favourite. It was shame then, that of all the days he was able to make it to Rick’s, Thursday, the day it was on special, he was never able to go. He had to visit his mum in the hospital on Thursdays as it was the only day she was not in chemotherapy, and was fit enough to see him. Viktor only ever drank the daily specials.