Darker than night

Last week while waiting for someone, I decided to have a snack at the nearest, decent restaurant. Luckily, a booth next to the window opened up and I jumped in.

I enjoyed my view of the chock-a-bloc traffic, but that was about the only thing I could see. This is because, dear reader, the coffee shop/bar/mini-discotheque was engulfed in the kind of darkness that the world was wrapped in before God gave the order “Let there be light.” No, there was no power blackout. This was the architect’s idea of ‘creating a relaxed ambience’. There were some tiny little mini-lights embedded in the ceiling, but they only added to the overall lack of light.

If I were a superstitious type, the arrival of the waitress would have had me screaming and calling on my ancestors to save me. Who was this vision in white, seemingly floating in the air and handing me a menu? (Later investigation confirmed that she was dressed in dark trousers). It was so dark that there was more light coming in from outside than there was from inside. There were a few couples spending time together, but I really don’t know how they managed it.

You see, I am the kind of person who tends to raise her voice when addressing people in sunglasses, as though the increased volume will shatter the shroud of darkness around their eyes. If I were the one having coffee in that dark restaurant this is how the conversation would go:
My date: You look lovely tonight, Stella.

Me: but how can you tell when it is this dark? Why are you lying to me? And why are you whispering? I can’t hear you!
My date: But I can hear you perfectly well, my dear. Please do stop shouting.
Me: ohooo! So now you have become a cat and can see in the darkness?
Well, you get the drift.

I did eventually have a perfectly-brewed cup of masala tea and a slice of marble cake but I had to keep touching my face to make sure that I myself had not disappeared into the cave-like gloom.
Keep walking in the light, brethren!