Take it with you

 

Someone had left it on the table at the sidewalk café.  Nobody seemed to be showing any interest in it at all and the waitress who showed me to the table apparently didn’t even see the thing sitting there.  I found it all very odd that nobody had come running back to claim it or that someone from a neighboring table hadn’t simply reached over and taken it when nobody was looking.  I decided to ignore it as well and ordered a glass of wine.  The lunch menu was a little bit pricey but considering this was right downtown and for the moment, the popular spot to be - I quickly justified such an extravagance.  I told myself I deserved a treat and stopped looking at the prices.

Waiting for my lunch to arrive I began to notice how quickly the place was filling up. I’m sure the new arrivals noticed the thing and thought it was mine and that I was just leaving it there to show off. The question that soon popped into my head - what do I do when I get up to leave? Do I just walk away and leave it where I found it. Someone would surely yell out, letting me know that I’ve left it behind. Then again – maybe they wouldn’t. But if they did yell out what would I do? Would I pretend it was, in fact, mine and that I had just absentmindedly left it behind, then walk back and take it. I would feel like a thief. And what if it was simply a prank; someone pulling a stunt to see what people would do. I certainly don’t want to end up on some silly television show or on some news program.

 

         I wish I hadn’t sat here.  Why did she have to show me to this table?  I didn’t even feel very hungry now. I just wanted to go some place else.  I took a large sip of wine and tried to calm myself down.  I’ve done nothing wrong.  I haven’t even touched the thing.  I’ve done nothing but sit here ordering my lunch.  I have nothing to worry about, and besides, someone could still discover they no longer have it and come back here looking for it.  Certainly all I’d have to do then is nod at the thing indicating – there it is, right where you left it.

 

         When my lunch arrived I waited to see if the waitress would pick it up after setting my plate down.  She didn’t.  All she did was ask if I’d like more wine.  The first glass had me feeling a little mellow and so I said yes, although the moment she walked away I mentally kicked myself for ordering it.  I certainly didn’t need two glasses of wine.  My sandwich looked oversized for the plate and the small bowl of soup smelled great but looked way too hot to try.  I picked up half of the sandwich and bit into it.  An odd texture immediately stopped me half way into the bite.  I cautiously set the sandwich back onto the plate and lifted the top piece of bread and part of the lettuce.  It was a folded piece of paper.  I looked around to see if anyone was watching me and there didn’t seem to be so I carefully slid the paper out and unfolded it.  The hand written note said, Take it with you.

 

         Now for sure I didn’t want to be sitting here.  Someone obviously knew about this and wanted me involved.  I wanted to get up and go into the kitchen and find whoever made my sandwich; at least look to see which person had a pen in their shirt pocket. No – that’s crazy.  Every waitress here has a pen in her apron; any one of them could have slipped that note into my lunch.  Why was this happening to me?  I suddenly felt deflated.  I slumped back into my chair and just stared at my lunch.  The noise of the café became a buzzing in my head, like some swarm of flies just waiting for me to stand up and walk away from the sandwich.

I tried to think of something else, what was I doing just before lunch? Where was I headed from here? Was someone waiting for me somewhere? Was that them tapping my shoulder? Who is it? I suddenly felt a hand pushing against my arm. “Sir? Are you okay?”

 
I opened my eyes. A waitress was leaning over looking at me. “Are you okay?”

I felt somewhat startled and embarrassed at the same time. I had fallen asleep right here at my table. Everyone was trying to be polite and not look at me but it wasn’t working; they had all stopped eating and were staring at me. The flies had stopped buzzing. “I’m fine – thank you.”


The waitress stepped back a little and I tried to assure the surrounding lunch guests that I was just fine. I smiled and nodded, as if thanking them for their concern. I moved my sandwich away and pulled the bowl of soup closer, wondering how long I had been sitting there asleep and if I had begun to snore? As I picked up the soup spoon the waitress asked, “Would you like to take it with you?”

It wasn’t until then that I noticed the afternoon light. It was way past the lunch hour. I looked down at my watch and saw that it was now 3:40 pm. I couldn’t believe it. I looked at the waitress and she could obviously read the disbelief on my face. “It's no problem, sir, I can reheat your soup if you’d like.” I brought the spoon up to my lips and tasted it. It was as cold as a mother-in-law's hug. I looked up at the waitress and said, “Maybe just a box for the sandwich.” She nodded and headed back in to the kitchen. I looked at my glass of wine. It was mostly gone. That’s what must have relaxed me so much, the two glasses of wine knocked me right out. I also notice that while I had been asleep no one had bothered to take the thing from the table. It still sat right where it had always been.

 It was at that moment that I remembered the note; the “Take it with you” note. Where was it? What had I done with it? I began checking my pockets, and looking around the edge of my plate. I didn’t find it. Had I dreamed it? When the waitress had asked if I wanted to take the soup with me, had I simply incorporated that into my dream? No. I remember the handwriting. It was real and I had it in my hand looking at it, but where was it now? I looked over at my sandwich. There, my teeth marks where I had almost bitten through but had stopped when I encountered the note. It had been real. I looked on the ground around my chair thinking that when I had fallen asleep the note fell from my hand.

That’s when I noticed the two pigeons under the empty table next to mine. One of them had the note in its beak and the other was chasing it around trying to snatch it away. There was no way I was getting it back now. I just kept watching the two birds until a busboy walked by and scooted one of the chairs in. Both birds flew off and I just watch as the one held tight to the note with the second one following close behind.

The waitress walked up with a packaged up container of fresh soup and a box for my sandwich. She set my bill on the table and smiled, picking up the first bowl of soup. “You’re not going to want this.” And she carried away the bowl of cold soup and my wine glass.   As I watch her walking away it was like watching the two pigeons disappearing down the street. That’s when I knew what I had to do. I gathered up the sandwich and, although it barely fit, I got it into the to-go box. I slipped the box down into the bag that held the container of soup and then pulled my wallet from my pocket. I paid – leaving a hefty tip lying there on top of the bill and as I stood up I crumpled the top of the bag so I could get a good grip, then I reached over and picked up the thing in my other hand.

  As I walked down the sidewalk, leaving the Café behind me, I felt good. I felt like I had gotten a great deal for my money and I felt rested.