Restaurant: Layers Bistro and Bakery
Lei: Spanish magdalenas, thick Spanish chocolate
Jade: Giant chocolate eclair, licorice and lavender tea
Bibi: Carrot cake with cold glass of milk
Topic: This and that
Jade and I felt like an afternoon tea so we stopped at our favorite bistro/bake shop to order some pastries. Jade was the only one who ended up with a cup of tea. It’s a beautiful afternoon---a little dark and cloudy, with the aroma of rain sweetening the air that we enthusiastically breathed in deeply and deliberately. I asked myself why the grass looked so much greener when rain is imminent and why everything seems to teem with life. Maybe it’s just my imagination. Or not.
Mabel, who goes by Bibi, is a short woman with a squat physique. She is neither fat nor skinny, neither muscular nor thick. I’d say she’s robust and strong. Her tanned skin is leathery and there are a couple of baggy folds under her eyes--two under her right eye and three under her left, to be precise. Her light brown hair is cut bluntly at chin level but you’d never know that because her hair is in a perennial ponytail. She married a banker who belongs to a prominent family from Chicago.
Bibi is wearing a complete light green and gray Nike ensemble -- from her work-out mesh T-shirt, matching athletic trousers and jacket to her socks and shoes. She practically lives in the sports club. She is there at least twice a day, seven days a week. She has a trainer in the early morning and repeats her work-out regimen alone in the afternoon. I am surprised that she is neither muscular nor super thin.
I know a binger when I see one. She is also a cutter---but a careful one though not careful enough for me to spot. I used to be one. That was a million years ago. But I digress.
Bibi doesn't talk much and her thoughts are transparent to me. She is feeling guilty about the carrot cake. She is thinking that she'll have to add an extra half hour on the elliptical machine. She takes her first bite and I see a hint of "yummy" in her eyes. That sort of broke the sadness that lived in them.
"So how are you doin', Bibi? It's been such a while."
"Doing good."
I know that six months ago, the police and paramedics were parked in front of her house. I also know that her husband moved out of the house that night....for a couple of weeks anyway. And I also know that he has a mean streak about him. It would seem easier to explain his behavior if alcohol were involved. Or drugs. But that's not the case. His is a sad case of plain and simple anger gone awry.
Jade begins the conversation.
"So, how are the kids?"
"They're doing well. Ashley's going to be a sophomore next year. The twins are going to junior high."
"So, do you work out a lot? I see you running early in the morning long before the rest of my family wakes up. Are you preparing for another marathon?"
"Oh, I just dabble here and there. Running relaxes me."
It's like pulling teeth with Bibi. There's a lot of awkward silences. And so I tried to regale her with stories of my poor attempt at tennis lessons from the health club tennis pro.
Bibi manages to smile and attempts some light-hearted banter with me and Jade.
"You have to try again, Lei. Don't let tennis elbow ruin it for you. Tennis is a fun game!"
"Bib, do you know how many times I've tried tennis? A total of 5 attempts. Every single time, something bad happens to me. The first time I attempted it when I was 12 was a disaster. My skirt popped open and my toes got blisters. This last time, I had to have physical therapy on my arm for three whole months! No, tennis is not for me."
"You just have to keep on pluggin' along, Lei. It may not seem like a good thing right now, but later, the game will grow on you and you'll feel like you can control the game. It's a worthwhile goal to be good at tennis. It's a social game. You meet new people and nevermind the physical benefits."
Jade and I exchanged knowing glances. We were on the same wave length.
"Well, I just think that there is a point where you just need to realize that you're in the wrong sport and need to find something else worthwhile."
"No, Lei. When you make a decision, you have to stick to it. Why did you choose tennis instead of swimming or basketball? Because you looked around and after careful study decided on your own that tennis is the best game for you, right?"
I wasn't sure what Bibi meant.
"Not really. I wanted to learn tennis because everybody I knew was playing it. And it looks like a lot of fun. Plus, I like the cute outfits."
I was trying to be funny. But Bibi was getting impassioned.
"So obviously, you gave it much thought, then. That's why, you stick it out. See it through. Even if it turns out badly. Even if it seems like the game doesn't want you. Even if it hurts. You just have to see it through. You just can't give up so easily"
Bibi was getting pretty emotional at this point. And I was starting to feel uncomfortable.
"Bibi---are we still talking about tennis?"
Bibi's face was now red and it was obvious that she was trying very hard not to cry. We all knew what she was trying to say. Not knowing how to proceed, I sheepishly opened my mouth--fearful that she may indeed break down and start telling us her real problem.
"There's a lot more sports than just tennis. I mean, I can take up Polynesian dancing again. It's quite a work-out, you know. Maybe I can still get my boobs to fill a half a coconut."
"Yeah, Lei. Just make sure they're young coconuts."
Jade was trying to be funny as well.
By this time, Bibi has regained her composure. It was an awkward moment and most of the conversation was supplied by Jade and me -- a very adequate attempt to help Bibi settle down. By the the time I felt susceptible to another order of pastries, Bibi stood up ready to run her errands.
Jade and I stayed a little longer---just long enough to talk about our usual woes and to cheer each other up for another week. We also decided that there's more to Bibi that we need to figure out.
I was also curious that neither Jade nor I had the usual propensity to goad someone like Bibi to go ahead and tell us what was REALLY going on inside her. It was as if we didn't want to know. And if that were the case, why not? Was it because we didn't want to get involved? Were we too lazy to offer any kind of comfort or safe harbor from her burdens?
A mid-afternoon tea just isn't going to cut it. We need to invite her to lunch.
Mabel, who goes by Bibi, is a short woman with a squat physique. She is neither fat nor skinny, neither muscular nor thick. I’d say she’s robust and strong. Her tanned skin is leathery and there are a couple of baggy folds under her eyes--two under her right eye and three under her left, to be precise. Her light brown hair is cut bluntly at chin level but you’d never know that because her hair is in a perennial ponytail. She married a banker who belongs to a prominent family from Chicago.
Bibi is wearing a complete light green and gray Nike ensemble -- from her work-out mesh T-shirt, matching athletic trousers and jacket to her socks and shoes. She practically lives in the sports club. She is there at least twice a day, seven days a week. She has a trainer in the early morning and repeats her work-out regimen alone in the afternoon. I am surprised that she is neither muscular nor super thin.
I know a binger when I see one. She is also a cutter---but a careful one though not careful enough for me to spot. I used to be one. That was a million years ago. But I digress.
Bibi doesn't talk much and her thoughts are transparent to me. She is feeling guilty about the carrot cake. She is thinking that she'll have to add an extra half hour on the elliptical machine. She takes her first bite and I see a hint of "yummy" in her eyes. That sort of broke the sadness that lived in them.
"So how are you doin', Bibi? It's been such a while."
"Doing good."
I know that six months ago, the police and paramedics were parked in front of her house. I also know that her husband moved out of the house that night....for a couple of weeks anyway. And I also know that he has a mean streak about him. It would seem easier to explain his behavior if alcohol were involved. Or drugs. But that's not the case. His is a sad case of plain and simple anger gone awry.
Jade begins the conversation.
"So, how are the kids?"
"They're doing well. Ashley's going to be a sophomore next year. The twins are going to junior high."
"So, do you work out a lot? I see you running early in the morning long before the rest of my family wakes up. Are you preparing for another marathon?"
"Oh, I just dabble here and there. Running relaxes me."
It's like pulling teeth with Bibi. There's a lot of awkward silences. And so I tried to regale her with stories of my poor attempt at tennis lessons from the health club tennis pro.
Bibi manages to smile and attempts some light-hearted banter with me and Jade.
"You have to try again, Lei. Don't let tennis elbow ruin it for you. Tennis is a fun game!"
"Bib, do you know how many times I've tried tennis? A total of 5 attempts. Every single time, something bad happens to me. The first time I attempted it when I was 12 was a disaster. My skirt popped open and my toes got blisters. This last time, I had to have physical therapy on my arm for three whole months! No, tennis is not for me."
"You just have to keep on pluggin' along, Lei. It may not seem like a good thing right now, but later, the game will grow on you and you'll feel like you can control the game. It's a worthwhile goal to be good at tennis. It's a social game. You meet new people and nevermind the physical benefits."
Jade and I exchanged knowing glances. We were on the same wave length.
"Well, I just think that there is a point where you just need to realize that you're in the wrong sport and need to find something else worthwhile."
"No, Lei. When you make a decision, you have to stick to it. Why did you choose tennis instead of swimming or basketball? Because you looked around and after careful study decided on your own that tennis is the best game for you, right?"
I wasn't sure what Bibi meant.
"Not really. I wanted to learn tennis because everybody I knew was playing it. And it looks like a lot of fun. Plus, I like the cute outfits."
I was trying to be funny. But Bibi was getting impassioned.
"So obviously, you gave it much thought, then. That's why, you stick it out. See it through. Even if it turns out badly. Even if it seems like the game doesn't want you. Even if it hurts. You just have to see it through. You just can't give up so easily"
Bibi was getting pretty emotional at this point. And I was starting to feel uncomfortable.
"Bibi---are we still talking about tennis?"
Bibi's face was now red and it was obvious that she was trying very hard not to cry. We all knew what she was trying to say. Not knowing how to proceed, I sheepishly opened my mouth--fearful that she may indeed break down and start telling us her real problem.
"There's a lot more sports than just tennis. I mean, I can take up Polynesian dancing again. It's quite a work-out, you know. Maybe I can still get my boobs to fill a half a coconut."
"Yeah, Lei. Just make sure they're young coconuts."
Jade was trying to be funny as well.
By this time, Bibi has regained her composure. It was an awkward moment and most of the conversation was supplied by Jade and me -- a very adequate attempt to help Bibi settle down. By the the time I felt susceptible to another order of pastries, Bibi stood up ready to run her errands.
Jade and I stayed a little longer---just long enough to talk about our usual woes and to cheer each other up for another week. We also decided that there's more to Bibi that we need to figure out.
I was also curious that neither Jade nor I had the usual propensity to goad someone like Bibi to go ahead and tell us what was REALLY going on inside her. It was as if we didn't want to know. And if that were the case, why not? Was it because we didn't want to get involved? Were we too lazy to offer any kind of comfort or safe harbor from her burdens?
A mid-afternoon tea just isn't going to cut it. We need to invite her to lunch.
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