(I wrote this short story back in 2009 or 2010. It made me smile when I read it again. I hope you enjoy it.)
He walked in. As soon as I saw him, all the noise around me seemed to fade. I stood up straighter and watched him.
I had been leaning by the kitchen sink with a clear view of where all the beautiful people were standing and posing in their fancy outfits, ready for their pictures to be taken. I was applying hand moisturizer for the 100th time that hour.That's because I had cleared the sink for the 100th time and my apron was very wet. I did not know how much beautiful people ate. Until today,of course.
The photographer with his big, high-tech camera. He looked at all the beautiful people intently as if memorizing every single detail. He did not smile. Not even once. I couldn't stop staring at him even though I knew it was rude. He walked back and forth, yelling this and rearranging that until he was content with how everything looked. Was that a slightly different accent I detected? I couldn't tell. As my mind was pondering this, I didn't realise that he was looking in my direction. Our eyes met for a brief second. Was that a smile? I couldn't tell. I blushed and quickly looked down. A few seconds later I looked up and his attention was already back on his camera and the beautiful people. Click, click, flash, flash the camera went.
I was transfixed.
Not so much by the beautiful people, but by the photographer. So much so that I did not realize someone had brought a mountain load of dishes again. Oh well, there goes my moisturizer. I turned my attention to the dishes, and allowed my thoughts to wander.
All of a sudden I felt a presence next to me. It was him. The photographer. I turned and found him looking intently at my face just as he had done with the beautiful people. He was studying me. I knew that look. He was wondering how old I was. So I just smiled and to my surprise he smiled back. He had the most unique features. Even though I was sure he was not that old, he had snow white hair complete with a snow white goatee. He had the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. And when he smiled I couldn't help but notice how white his teeth were. He asked me where I was from. I've always had trouble answering that question. Should I say New York....should I say my native land? Instead I asked him where he was from. Poland. Oh so I was right about an accent. And then I told him I was from Kenya. He smiled and asked me if I knew some runner. I did not. Maybe it was the way he pronounced the name. Please don't ask me what I think of the current president of the United States, I mentally prayed. He did not. He wanted coffee. Luckily I had just made a pot of coffee. I poured it for him then he disappeared into the other room.
The photographer came back a few minutes later.The sink was cleared and once again I was applying hand moisturizer. And looking directly at me, he said,
"That was the best cup of coffee I've had in a long time."
I blushed. He left.
And that was the last time I saw him.
