Spock Misses The Point

Every Saturday lunch Joseph arrives carrying his sport bag, wearing the same suit, may be even the same shirt, and would always sit at that same table. If it is taken, he’d pace around a bit, then sit somewhere else, all the while he’s watching that table somewhat nervously. As soon as it’s free, he’s there. Inside his sport bag there’s a book, which he falls asleep on. He also has a loaf of bread in there sometimes, and even what looks to me like a container filled with black coffee. He would order from the Malaysian eatery behind him, lay out his meal, with the coffee, and sometimes with bread. He would eat, drink his coffee, then sleep on his book.

I have been coming to this eatery for quite a few years, and one time I got to talk to Joseph, because he was stuck without his table. He asked to sit with me, and we ate together. That’s how I know his name. Joseph has an accent, one which cannot quite place. May be Russian, may be Polish. I’m not really sure. When I asked him where he was from, he replied, “Oh, you don’t really want to know the place I’m from.” As if he didn’t like where he was from. I asked again, and he still wouldn’t give a proper answer. So I left the subject alone. He said he dislikes seeing people make a mess when they eat, and that he works through the night at a church, after which he goes there to eat. Well, that’s what he said.

PS.  I had just finished my laksa when I took this, sitting exactly where the camera view is.  The couple who left the bowls you see in the photo left a minute before this was taken.

PPS.  Silly me forgot to charge the camera the night before, and it was fast running out of juice.  It wouldn’t even turn on with the LCD active.  I managed to turn the camera on without the LCD, looked through the viewfinder, and snapped.  That was my only chance for a shot of Joseph that day, and I’m glad I took it.

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