i would go there around 4pm, after class. i would assist in opening the door, welcoming guests, giving them a smile while saying, "sandali lang po!"
i would lead them to their seats, hand them menus, and help traffic more people who would come pouring in in big, then small, then big waves again.
when the halls would get a bit too crowded, i would station myself behind the cake counter, taking orders, either putting the slices on the small oval plate, or in a take-out box. as the coffee machine worked, i would carefully place one piece of spritsar cookie, a packet of sugar and cream, and a teaspoon over a saucer, before completing the order with its cup of freshly brewed coffee.
i had also memorized the menu by then, which enabled me to write corresponding prices in guests' order slips without using a cheat sheet. one thing that hasn't changed, though, is my poor arithmetic; i was heavily dependent on the calculator, which i clicked on with confidence and ease. (must have something to do with my piano-playing that rouses me with keypad-related activities, haha). even more with the heavier keys of the cash register.
i loved the pace of those evenings. i probably didn't think of it this way back then, but i guess i already loved being useful and productive.
fast forward to thirteen years later, and i'm re-acquainted with this particular joy of being in our cafe dining room. the rush of people who are ever-so-patient with the waitlist, the unbelievable amount of food that comes out of the kitchen, the seemingly-synchronized movement of the servers, and the constant, joyful buzz in the air...i swear, i almost forgot i had experienced it before.
but here i am again, and i'm happy to be reunited with these sensations.
this time, i know i will never again forget.
