People Watching
At home the evening is pretty much mapped out from the moment I walk in the door – clear the kitchen ready to make dinner, sometimes make dinner, set the table, herd the children to the dinner table, catch up with what everybody else has been doing while eating, clear the plates, wash up, help with homework if needed, put a load of washing in the machine if it's not already running, get the children off to bed, and finally collapse at about 9pm.
When I'm in a hotel with work the evening is rather different.
If I'm travelling with a project manager, we will invariably be staying in a boutique boarding house on the outskirts of town, or a huge hotel miles from town – so we will be stranded with a mini bar that charges more than the gross domestic product of a small african nation for a bottle of water, and a restaurant that we will sit in for several hours, trying to make awkward conversation.
If I'm travelling alone, I will stay in the closest, most reasonably priced hotel to the client site. I will preferably choose a chain hotel, because they are the same everywhere, and everything tends to just work. It usually costs half to a third of the first option, and you have restaurants and grocery stores within walking distance. Quite often I just buy a salad or something from the supermarket, and stay in (I hate sitting alone in restaurants – I guess because I'm so used to the mayhem of home).
So. This evening I got back to the hotel, dropped my bag off, and wondered what to do next. While gazing from the window of the hotel room, I spied a Starbucks in a busy street below my third floor window. Perfect.
After buying a cappuccino, I perched myself on a stool at the end of a tall dark wood table stretching the length of the store, and started scribbling thoughts in my Moleskine notebook. I carry the notebook pretty much everywhere – as evidenced by the various photos in Instagram over the years. It becomes a brain dump when sitting alone in far flung destinations with work.
While scribbling away, and staring into space, I became aware of the group of girls adjacent to me at the table. They were no doubt students of the local University, and their entire topic of conversation appeared to be boys, ex boyfriends, relationships, and so on – or rather they were the sole topic of conversation of one particularly attractive blonde girl who seemed to have enough self confidence, bravado, and stories to mo make up for everybody else. She just didn't shut up – it was like she was holding court, surrounded by hand maidens.
I was just considering wandering off in search of something to eat when something caught my eye. There was an elderly gentleman being helped along the road by a younger man, holding his arm. The elderly gentleman was a perfect mad scientist – unsteady on his feet, wearing a full suit, tipping his head back to peer through impossibly thick glasses, and a shock of white hair seemingly bursting from his head in all directions. As he walked, waving a stick as he went, he either seemed to burst into a gallop, or suddenly lose the rhythm entirely, and have trouble making another step for a few moments – dithering over his next move. I became utterly absorbed in him for a few moments – wondering who he was, what he was like, and what his life had been like. I'm sure he was a wonderful character – he looked like he was.
While wandering to Pizza Hut (which it transpires are far better over here than in the US – and that's not saying much), I bought some new headphones for my mobile phone. The previous pair packed up while on the train on Monday evening, rendering me podcast-less overnight. I chose a cheap pair of in-ear ones in a blister pack near the counter. They are RUBBISH. Absolutely dreadful. I can't complain though – they were incredibly cheap.
Pizza Hut was unremarkable, save for the wonderful waitress that served me – jibbering away in high speed vaguely English Brazilian (or Portuguese?), but with such enthusiasm, and with such a wonderful smile that I couldn't help liking her. She talked me into buying a starter. I talked her out of ordering me a pudding.
Something pretty entertaining happened while sitting in Pizza Hut, watching the world go by – a middle aged couple wandered in. She was really quite beautiful, with short dark hair, elegant makeup, and smart, stylish clothes. He was the human embodiment of Splinter from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. He had the biggest nose I have ever seen on anybody, and appeared to have never washed his hair – which was grey, matted, and stuck to his head in places. Normally I wouldn't have noticed him, but when placed next to her they formed the most unlikely couple imaginable. Their appearance isn't the entertaining bit though – what they did is.
It was early. The restaurant was almost empty. They walked in, stood by the “Please Wait to be Seated” sign, and the gold medal winning waitress raced over to them.
“You may sit anywhere”
She gestured across the restaurant at the sea of empty tables. They walked straight to the only table in the entire place that hadn't been cleaned – the table the waitress had been clearing when they entered. They wanted to sit at it. What the hell? They then stood and watched as she cleaned it. I couldn't believe or understand what I was seeing.
Once they vanished from view I found myself gazing from the restaurant window at the torrent of life passing by outside – young people, old people, cars, lorries, buses, taxis... lots and lots of people in a continual stream in all directions. I wondered who they were – where they were going – what they were thinking about.
A Brazilian voice roused me from my daydream, and explained 20 special offers in 10 seconds to me while I entered a gratuity into the credit card machine. She saw what I had done, and thanked me 20 times in 2 seconds as I made my way smiling from the restaurant.