Scavenging and thinking

I went to find food tonight. There was nothing in the apartment, as usual. Ok there was tea and some tinned peaches but I wanted something that didn't come out of a case. It was almost 9am and I figured there wouldn't be a lot of places open. So I headed for Melville. It's the playpen of the alternative debauched.

I found a relatively acceptable place and plopped myself in the middle of Boxing Day stragglers. I drank a mineral water and some cafe latte. I had grilled hake with vegetable rice and some creamed spinach and squash. I ate. I read. I smoked. It was too much so I had it put in takeaway containers. I wanted sweet so I ordered a chocolate milkshake. I drank that so fast the waiter had suprised eyes.

I am reading a book on the life of a duchess in the 1800s. I had just got to the part where the author described the sumptuous dinners. Then the duke became seriously ill and the duchess was at a loss because her husband, the duke, defined who she was on so many levels. And there I sat, a single female, in an ordinary franchise eatery, on my own, in the supposed second most dangerous city in the world (Johannesburg). I paid for my meal with my own money and I smiled.