Far Too Good for Ordinary People

by Thane Thompson

The maître d' at the upscale tea room gave the man a glare that threatened to crack his tuxedoed and bespectacled façade; but he snapped his finger at the waiter who was hovering nearby like a tremulous hummingbird and stomped back towards the kitchen with the faux bone china cup firmly in hand. "Considering that he attempted to sell me an $8 cup of God-knows-what made from second-rate, bag-derived leaf fannings that were doing a miserable job masquerading as a quality Darjeeling," the would-be connoisseur blustered, "I thought I was well within my rights to return that over-brewed cup of dishwater." He went on, saying, "I suppose I may have gone a bit far," acting like he was holding court with his overly-loud voice, "by asking him if he would know a well-cured leaf of camellia sinensis if it bit him in his bony ass; but if he's going to try to fob that dreck off onto me, I might as well just stay home and brew a cup of PeeGee from the hot water tap." When the waiter returned, I sat back in my chair, hoping that the movement would distance me from the petty, disgruntled little man as the other clients darted angry glances at him; though what may have kept us from acknowledging and even supporting his little... scene could have been our frustration and self-blame at over-paying for a commodity that we knew too little about. The waiter placed the man's new cup on the table with a flourish, then rasped out in an icy, French-derived hiss, "As monsieur has requested; a cup of hand-harvested, Competition-Grade Makaibari Silver Tips, graded 'Finest Tippy Golden Flowery Orange Pekoe.'" The snooty little man gave the waiter an ingratiating nod and then began to "ooh" and "ahh" to himself, mumbling about the heady floral scent, the bright coppery liquor, and the lively muscatel finish, though, more and more quietly, until his hand finally went to his throat and his last breath came in a strangled rattle; making me realize that I wasn't just imagining the not-so-subtle scent of bitter-almond that was wafting over to me from his dainty white cup.


Thane Thompson, author of Contemplating Kant and Trophy Wives, writes literary prose and poetry, fantasy, and science fiction. His work has appeared at The Writer's Eye Magazine, Pen Pricks Micro Fiction, and is forthcoming at Tiny Lights "Flash in the Pan." He lives in Ohio with his wife, daughter, and two highly opinionated cats. He freely admits to liking cheap wine, expensive movies, and hand-blown glassware.


Anonymous said...

An epic smackdown.

AlasMyDear said...

Hello there,

I wanted to give you the "Arte y Pico" blog award, because I love coming to this place. It's my favourite literary blog - the idea is neat, and the pieces very often engage my mind. I appreciate the mental stimulation which is so difficult to find on the Web! Sorry though, as now you have more work :)

You can see how I did it on my blog http://alasmydear.blogspot.com/

I'm supposed to tell you this:

1. You have to pick 5 blogs that you consider deserve this award for their creativity, design, interesting material, and also contributes to the blogging community, no matter what language.

2. Each award has to have the name of the author and also a link to his/her blog to be visited by everyone.

3. Each award winner has to show the award and put the name and link to the blog that has given her/him the award itself.

4. The award winner and the one who has given the prize have to show the link of "Arte y Pico' blog, so everyone will know the origin of this award - http://www.arteypico.blogspot.com/

5. To show these rules.

Have a lovely week!

Joe said...

A great comeuppance, if not an eternal one. Very nicely written and well-executed, pardon the pun. Look forward to more of your writing.

Madam Z said...

A waiter's wet dream! I love it, especially your beautiful use of language.

Thane said...

Thanks Anon, Joe, and Madam Z. I very much appreciate your comments, as well as the warm welcome here as 6S.