Gia’s Perfect Latte (Part One)

Everything has been going wrong since I set foot in this stupid city.  This shitty place full of rude and abrupt people. They seem to move in a way as if they were attacked by killer bees.  Could they run any faster?  Could they shove and push any harder? I understand such behaviour in the morning, but after you leave work? Give me a break.

I had arrived on a redeye and have not had time for a proper meal, let alone adjust my sleep.  I quickly get into the shower after hours of begging the stupid Guest Relations’ assistant manager for an early check in. “We are sorry mademoiselle but we can not accommodate such request with this particular room, we can have you check in a different room and change it tomorrow if you please”.  Even when they are acting like total asses they seem so proper and well spoken.  “No, forget that” I said. I will be waiting in the Park Room until you are able. “The concierge is charging my blackberry and my cell phone” I tell him.  “That will not be a problem I will come and personally get you when it is ready”.

I go in and the lady tells me to “sit where I please”.  I choose a table for two in the middle of the room with my back to the entrance.  I order a tonic with lemon and lime and  drink it slowly while looking at the people around me.  Annoying couple in the corner.  Rich Khaleeji kid on my right with his two female lawyers/assistants sealing a deal with a businessman using his father’s money – that he may or may not have earned. Pathetic looking Khaleeji girl dressed in green wearing makeup suitable for Halloween or a clown this early in the morning, waiting for someone she already knows or has not even meet but hopes to know very soon.

As I stood ready to agree checking in the other room, the concierge approaches me with my ringing cell phone.  I take the call and head towards the lobby. A Lebanese staffer greets me and asks: “have they given you the room you had requested?”  I told him that I was still waiting but….. He interrupts me and says my luggage is already up there and hands me my keys.

…….I get out of the shower, sit in my robe near the window and reply to a couple of emails as I wait for my towel wrapped hair to dry.
Yes. I wait. I never like squeezing it with a towel or blow drying it unless done professionally.  Otherwise I wait it out.  If in a hurry I pull it up in a bun or a sleek pony tail.  I watch a man cross the road through this foggy busy London morning and get lost in my thoughts.  The phone rings and brings me back to reality.  Reality being my orientation starts in less than an hour all the way on the other side of the city.

I get dressed and a firm knock on the door makes me yell “What?!!” “The coffee Madame.” Oh, OK…. wait.  I open the door and let him set it on the table near the window he pours me a cup of the French press and leaves. I take a sip and walk out in a hurry.

I get to the place seven minutes early. I decide to get a latte from the Starbucks across the street.  I walk in, put in my order and wait at the end.  I saw my drink being placed and as I approach to grab it, this other hand takes it.  I looked up and he said “quad? Wow! law student?” No….  “Gia? Italian?” Not that either. I am an arab and my name is not Gia. Long story. I take my drink and smile.


I walk out and for some reason I had to look back. He was still looking at me……..

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~ by Purple Velvet on May 9, 2010.

2 Responses to “Gia’s Perfect Latte (Part One)”

  1. […] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Purple Velvet. Purple Velvet said: New on My Blog: Gia’s Perfect Latte (Part One) http://bit.ly/ddGWOc via Purple Velvet. […]

  2. LOL you got that right about them. Even bad news is given in the politest way. -.-
    Liked the line about the khaleegi kid doin business with the money he might or might not have earned.

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