Lunch At The Right-On Café

Right-On Café

Sitting, waiting for a colleague
At the latest place to have lunch,
I sip my pricey, fizzy water,
Watch and wait, observe and listen.

Chalk board menus, pavement tables,
Table cloths in blue and yellow,
Fish sculptures on fake adobe,
Lighbulb - eyed and very trendy.

Smells of olive oil and pesto,
Salsa, vinaigrette and garlic,
Assail the olfactory organs,
Known to you and I as noses!

Pseudo-designer meals lure people
Much more pseudo than designer,
They meet to eat, linger and chatter,
And act their Plays across the tables.

Theatricals and well-heeled women,
Lecturers and favoured students,
Media types in crumpled linen,
Posturers and young pretenders.

Masked like Commedia dell'Arte
They issue words devoid of meaning,
Like the actor, concentrating
Only on the lines they’re reading,

Make humane gestures without caring,
Tilt their heads, but do not listen,
Affect exaggerated gestures,
To punctuate pretentious discourse.

Shameless pseudo intellectuals
Obfuscate on obfuscation,
Complicate, confound and jumble
Words into a fatuous scramble.

Leisured wives in spray-can make-up,
Manicured, coiffeused and costumed,
Compete with clothes and recreation,
Score material possessions.

Briefcased business types in sharp suits,
Shiny shoes, expensive haircuts,
Sound plausible, maintain eye-contact,
Exchange their currency of bullshit.

Servers bustle, smiling brightly,
Doing everything to please us,
Their formulaeic “Have a good day,”
Hides aching feet and fraying tempers.

Middle-class, constrained but stag-like
Foes in this field of rutting egoes,
Battle out their subtle combats
As postures clash and I.Q.’s battle.

Sitting, waiting for a colleague
At the latest place to have lunch,
I wonder as my colleague enters,
Will we compete, or sit and giggle?

© Lynne Joyce, 22.09.1997