Golden hour. The 'I'll have a classic French croissant with my almond milk cappuccino' morning crowd has snuck back into their duvets to work from home.
And the work lunch suits have yet to swarm down upon Cafe Sofia. The waiter has barely taken two steps away from our table. Unfortunately, Tessa is sitting across from me. Her drama, unreliant on an audience, is relentless. She ignores my glare. You can tell a lot about someone by the company they keep.
My disclaimer: I did not know people in Joburg actually followed up to do coffee sometime. In Cape Town it was merely a polite thing to say in between awkward moments.
Also, I needed to get out of my aunt's house, even for an hour. Everyone has forgotten about Covid. I am unemployable. An eight-year proven track record as a social media manager in the tourism sector overshadowed by one blip. You've been working since you were sixteen. I am lonely in this big house. I need you. My aunt fooled me. Yes, we survived the worst pandemic of our time. But contrary to what I hoped, my aunt's generous spirit is still not the norm.
People are who they are. Sitting across Tessa, I see beyond the mask. Her playful combination of a mustard dress and fuchsia jacket may suggest a quirkiness I seek out in people. But my misfortunes will merely serve as another form of currency for her, an anecdote to break the ice or the start of a thread to be relevant on Twitter.
