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| A simple token I got from my condo developer. |
AS I SAT
AT
the dining table, I banged my hips against the chair. Which was almost
paper-light that it fell like a twig to the ground. Maybe if not because of a nearby chair that had caught the fall, the impact might have stolen the other
guests’ attention. Wrong move for me. I almost lost my composure. If I ever had.
The
waiter served me with a dining plate, dotted with shades of greens and browns.
A chicken fillet with brown sauce, the moisture of which had leached into the
cold air. Fish fillet covered with green stuff I knew nothing about but
reminded me algae. And veggies. A mix of corn and carrot and gumbo. Plus a
meager amount of rice evenly strewn across the plate. Meager not because of
cost-cutting but because servers think no one wants that much rice in this era
where a bulging stomach is undesired. Maybe
this is the food and lifestyle for the rich, I thought. Or maybe for the
middle-class homeowners, of which sooner or later I will be a part. I paused a
moment, just so my behavior wouldn’t betray me, so I wouldn’t appear too
excited about the free dinner. Even if that was actually the reason why I’m
here, since the agent from whom I bought my condo unit, Ana, advised me to go
to this occasion. To make up for the lunch treat she couldn’t afford for her
clients yet. For my officemate Agnes and me. She’d been telling it was fine
even if I bring no guests, prospect buyers on their part, because I am their
client. Already a homebuyer paying my monthly down payment. I’m still not fully
convinced though. That it was really fine. And that I’m already a homebuyer.
