Murray @ Midnight is always fond of making a spectacular Entrance and none more so then when he frequents his local barista “Sugar n Spice”. It was Monday and he wasn’t in but his casual Binni was.

“A Flat White My Man and make it snappy!” he bellows and waves his arms about with great flourish.

“Snappy s’extra guv”

“A flat white my good fellow – with no snappy, but two sugars”
“Before or after” came back the response.

Dramatic pause as Midnight spins on his heel, back and forth, as though putting a cigarette out under his heel. He greets and smiles at the various honey baked clusters of humanity scattered across the Café’s seating. Most try not to make eye contact as was the accepted practice at the “Sugar n Spice” when Midnight presented himself in the special teleconference jacket with the lurid red and white striped lapels.

All except for Mr Lizard who was flat out drinking and working his way through the new train timetable before the theatrical entrance of Midnight.

“Before! Or after?”

A young lady stood with hands on hips behind the huge silver armoured espresso machine. She knew Midnight from the staff breifing and was certainly not going to extend him the same patience that she afforded spunky Terry from the newsagents next door. Not in that jacket anyway.

Midnight turned abruptly and presented her with two extended fingers “Two my dear chap”

“toerag” Binni muttered under her breath as she disappeared in a rising wall of hot milk mist.

Midnight buttoned his jacket up, was careful to smooth out his special emergency lapels, unbuttoned his jacket, and approached Mr Lizard with a strange glint in his eye. Facing the prospect of a two hour teleconference, Midnight feared almost no one… with the exception of Miss Petite Yum and his older sister ‘East of Eden’… who both were deadly in their own way.

Standing over the small table, Midnight shifted an empty chair back ever so slightly and extended a questioning nod to Mr Lizard. He shrugged his shoulders indifferently and returned Midnight a short sharp curt nod. Midnight dramatically slung the chair back, slammed its feet loudly to the patterned concrete floor and slung his body over the chair, hovered a little as he gathered the folds of his jacket to his crotch, and then sat down heavily.

Mr Lizard raised a single eyebrow, picked up his stirring spoon off his neatly folded going-out napkin, and stirred absently in a counter-clockwise fashion.

Midnight reached around, grabbed the sides of his chair and made quick bunny hop motions with body and chair as one towards the table until the table nestled tightly into his mid region.

“S’one flattie, two sug’arrs” yelled out Binni to no one in particular. She made a big point in telegraphing the no one in particular bit. So much so that Midnight missed it all together.

Binni returned to the machine and lined up three tall glasses for the next order.

Three ladies milled about the counter, excitedly chatting about one of their absent friends poor sex life and sub standard social standing. Two of the ladies wore pastel pink ensembles. The third lady, the taller one with the low hanging fruit, was dressed from head to toe in a tangerine colour and was not at all comfortable. She fidgeted and found herself saying “redeemably” whenever a brief respite in the conversation occurred.

To provide a little bit of variance to her repartee, she occasionally pointed at people walking pass the café and waving and motioning the traditional call me signal. This was off putting for everyone. She resorted to man handling the takeaway coffee pouches while stealing quick glances at herself in the reflective finish of the cakes display.

Midnight locked eyes with Mr Lizard.

Binni glanced up to see the pair staring across the small table, she looked down at the cooling coffee, she looked across at the ladies of leisure, she looked at down at her small breasts, her not so small stomach and then her scuffed Doc Martin boots. She stomped on a passing roach, let out a deep sigh, and returned to milking the three lattes standing to attention.

A bead of sweat appeared on Midnight’s brow.

The corners of Mr Lizard’s mouth threatened to curl upwards, almost a smile but more of a self indulgent sneer but committing to neither. He didn’t really have lips, sure he had a mouth as such but his lips were so thin that it was more the edging to lips without the lips itself. A mouth slit.

Midnight pondered this while trying real hard not to wipe the sweat beads gathering across his brow. Outposts were being set up across his forehead plains. It reminded him of a summer musical festival but with sweat beads instead of… well you know, people.

Midnight suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to hum the John Mayer song “Wonderland” but he resisted and held his composure.

Mr Lizard for a brief moment thought that this strange man with the impressive overcoat had just soiled himself… but it was the old couple behind him waiting for the express to Santa Anna.

Wiping sweat off during a tricky encounter like this would be very uncool but Midnight was in no doubt that humming “Wonderland” in the company of a Lizard dude… very not cool. And humming always led directly to singing and that was very very not cool.

It was at this point that Midnight had wished he hadn’t worn his special teleconference jacket out of the office and down to “Sugar n Spice”. He could feel pools of sweat being commissioned for the John Mayer festival across his back and under his arms. He tried to shift slightly on the seat but only managed to give himself a slight wedgie. Now he was really uncomfortable.

Mr Lizard took a sip from his black tea and wondered a) what’s with the funky lapeled jacket and b) crikey he must be hot, and c) of all the gin joints, why my table.

“Oi Mister Ring-mess-star- yer flattie is good to go”

Binni liked to pretend she was from the East End of London to help pass the time. Sometime she also mixed the de-caf with the caf’ jus’ for laughs. Yesterday she mixed it up while wearing an amusing Smurf t-shirt and tomorrow she planned on wearing no pants at all. Just a tartan skirt. And a top with big square holes in it. And a really big necklace with a huge bat pendant. And purple nail polish.

The three ladies looked like the cranky old biddies from the English television series “Ladette to Lady” where they get to call young girls with an appetite for all sorts of things slappers and the like. The Tangerine Lady would never tell but she herself once upon time was somewhat of a ‘goer’. Now she ate day old tea cake. She missed the slappering. But her joints ached now.

Midnight placed two closed fists on to the table, lifted himself out of his chair, pointed a finger menacingly at Mr Lizard. He continued to sip from his tea and regard Midnight with a degree of passing curiosity.

Midnight put his arm down and stalked over to Binni declaring “Thank ye for my crèma young fellow-me-laddie” while attempting to maintain some form of eye contact. He failed.

He collected some napkins and wiped up the spillage. He should have gone with the before and not the after. Binni gifted him with a withering look. She’d spent all weekend working up this one so she knew it was special. Midnight nodded in appreciation.

“Plank” Binni absently replied as she cut deeply into the Beehive Macaroons order by the St Trannies old girls. Tangerine was most unhappy about the selection but so desperately wanted to be accepted by the others and was fearful that if she wasn’t that they’d either sleep with her husband or worse lead a cow upstairs and lock it in her recently renovated ensuite. Tangerine was not well when she hadn’t eaten anything this early in the morning.

Binni wasn’t feeling well either. She dreamed of a day when she could throw this all in and become a practising veterinarian or pharmacist. Which ever job didn’t require her to go to university, encouraged on the job practice, and would be generally okay with multiple face piercings. Failing that, her dream allowed for her to also man the front counter at the Museum of Modern Arts merchandise counter. She liked the idea of commoditizing art on a grand scale. She also liked collecting snow domes of cities she has visited.

Midnight with coffee in hand and standing in the middle of café dramatically waved his non-coffee hand over his head and declared “ I must go one and all for I have a teleconference to attend, be brave for I will return later today before I catch the train”. Big generous slurp and then away. Out he stepped and quickly disappeared into the flow of passing pedestrians.

Mr Lizard set his china tea set to oneside. Pulled out his blackberry and sent Lord Nuffnuff a text that read “893 432 23445 349232111”… Mr Lizard cursed his texting skills and sent it anyway. The Lord would invariably call him back, saving Mr Lizard call fees in the process.

A thought occured to him – Austrians with moustaches couldn’t be trusted. Ever.

“That’s for sure” whispered Mr Lizard as he poured himself another cup of tea and waited for Midnights teleconference to conclude. The red and white striped lapels are not easily forgotten… or forgiven… Mr Lizard started to gurgle…. no, it sounded like a gurgle but it was actually a chuckle. Binni stopped staring, mouthed the word “Freaks” and returned to wiping down the huffing and puffing silver espresso beast.