Bass player

In the town where I’m consuming my days, there’s a restaurant I wouldn’t compare with any other. It is placed in the heart of the city and, as some of you might presume, it is a luxurious one. The strange aspects related to it started from its very first day…

While some well-established places would almost beg you to visit them, this restaurant has clients from the day of its opening. Its guests give the impression that they’re from elsewhere. They represent that solid middle class that Romania doesn’t have. Where do they come from? Are they local people or some obscure organization is importing them on daily basis?! No one could tell. The idea of a secret society would be quite attractive for any mortal who would engage to explain the phenomenon. It could be said that this restaurant is the headquarters of some international secret agents. There’s no hour during the day when it would be empty – with its big windows to the street, just like an office. The only difference is that there are new “workers” every 24 hours.

Their clients are fine people with fine gestures and fine mimics. If you take a good look at them, you would think they’re perfect. From behavior to the trendy clothes, they’re the representatives of a premium human typology and, yes, visually they do impress. If you didn’t see them you would hardly believe that they exist.

I walk by this restaurant often. Every time I see the people at the tables, I have mixed feelings. I admire them because of their almost religious happiness and I’m troubled because of their perfection. The chance to take a seat beside them, even on a single occasion, is not even worth mentioning. As in a profoundly wicked relationship, I see no perspectives. The distance between us would grow with every step I would make towards it…

Photo: www.danielnyc.com

Tagged as middle class, perfect people, restaurant + Categorized as una-alta