Woman’s Politics Weekly: I may be BAD but I am Perfectly Good at it (!)… The Green Cafe: A Love Story

Reporting, Base Camp, London.

Saturday, 5th September 2020.

‘I may be BAD but I am Perfectly Good at it’ (!)… Rihanna.

‘…At the same time however, sometimes perhaps people do not realise that to have people ‘orbit you’ so to speak, is not necessarily, always a bad thing.

It can be used to your power and advantage, as a woman, no matter who or what people think you are…’

Woman’s Politics Weekly: I may be Bad but I am Perfectly Good at it (!)… Instilling Love & The Green Cafe: ‘Eat Out to Help Out’ taken to another level.

“If we follow the police, we might find some drugs (?)” I say to the guy next to me.

Things are not the same since lockdown.

Things have obviously, slowed down.

 “I’m not waiting one hour for a piece of chicken” I shout.

“You order your food, I’m going for a cigarette” I say.

I walk outside, light a fag and leg it. 

Honestly, sometimes, I just can’t be bothered.

The gang stalkers are so obvious, they even do a U turn in front of me.

As I pick up haste and walk down the main road; I wonder, half don’t wonder, why I am still single.

Life is so fast paced these days, and I don’t use the term ‘these days’ because I am an OAP; we have thus advanced, to a stage of human development with increased population density and help through the catalyst of the internet, the last 2 decades or so, where so much information and human development can be viewed, modified, innovated and adapted by the human body itself, we have truly reached a Camus absurdist like era of ‘What’s the Point’.

Camus relates his philosophy to the myth of Sisyphus, a man pushing a rock up a hill, only to watch it roll down. 

This probably has something to do with ‘social psychology’ whereby, the internet which has become something like a small city, with ‘Youtube’ as its’ capital city, social psychologists, (longitudinal and lateral research, case studies and theories, when an area is ‘densely populated’, kind of like the internet and the overwhelming amount of information and population in the ‘city of Youtube’), suggest that people are on average 11 times less likely to do anything and 11 times more likely to assume that ‘someone else’ will take responsibility for things that happen all the time.

As they assume, everyone else is watching and has seen the same thing and will do something about it, naturally, as they would (in their minds).

…Until it’s too late. 

So much to the point, people would rather sit in their room, all by themselves, than eat with each other.

And would much rather watch a party on youtube, instead of just talking to each other (?)

At the same time however, I still go to my local independent cafe for coffees and breakfast, to support my local community.

I do not particularly like this cafe, but they are the closest one to my flat, for those days when I can’t even prepare myself, a hot drink.

‘Looking a bit run down’, the woman who owns the cafe says to me.

The cafe is dark, it’s dusty, and the food, sometimes undercooked.

She tends to have one cake on display, always a bit dry.

I know she is a dreamer too, heavy eyelids, rarely lifting her head, when someone speaks, she hardly moves her head, doesn’t speak, just gazes into the air, moans, hoping for something, to change.

To be the woman she always wanted to be; she wants to do things, wanted to do things, had the time, but not the purpose, has the purpose but not the time, and now feels trapped, by the cycle of life, by the people who orbit her.

It can feel like the people who orbit you, due to the demands of society, are slowly dragging you down into a ditch, as you are trapped by domestic duties and keeping other people happy all the time. 

It’s actually just the demands of the society around you, not the individuals who orbit you, (it helps to have a partner you can work with, who can use their own initiative) but couples and marriages do break up over this.

Love helps.

They say, childbirth is actually, the number one root cause of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, then divorce, but I guess, no one really gives a fuck.

Sometimes, even though I lost my first kid, afterwards I would feel, like an empty shell.

Then literally, like some kind of cattle.

At least cattle have an RSPCA.

… 

At the same time however, sometimes perhaps people do not realise that to have people ‘orbit you’ so to speak, is not necessarily, always a bad thing.

It can be used to your power and advantage, as a woman, no matter who or what people think you are.

‘Your husband owns the barber shop next door” I mention to her one morning, as I order my coffee.

She smiles at me, then decides to over charge me for my coffee.

Nonetheless, I use my mother’s philosophy of always respond with kindness, that defeats them twice so.

“How do you know this,” she asks me.

“My neighbour told me, he likes your breakfast”, I make this story up.

Everyday, I pass or go into the cafe, at first I compliment her dry cake.

This turns into several, quite nice cakes.

Now pastries, cookies, macaroons.

Everyday I pass or go into the cafe, I then start to compliment the decor.

Yesterday, I watched this woman put a new gold circled banner, on her new glass closed terrace smoking area with windows, outside her cafe.

I like this woman.

She is a bit sneaky, but adorable at the same time. 

I have noticed, the last nine months, every morning I either pass by or come into the cafe, gradually, the woman, refurbishing, giving her cafe a little ‘make over’.

Husband and kids involved.

Maybe it was initially envy, or maybe it was fear I would take her husband, maybe it was enthusiasm, my ‘breakfast story’ and fake neighbour had taken an interest in her.

Especially with the lockdown in the spring and early summer months, her daughter getting ‘experience’, working as a waitress, making coffees, whilst mum sits down and has some breakfast herself.

As she talks with other women, and pieces of paper.

I walked in last week and noticed, and today tried her complete new menu.

She no longer does the tired overloaded bog standard choices of basic English breakfasts; one sausage, two sausage, veggie sausage, mushrooms, or no mushrooms, tomatoes or no tomatoes, she just does 1 English breakfast, simple, how it should be: the ‘Pan’: 1 Cumberland sausage (divine enough, you don’t need two sausages), fried bacon, 1 fresh grilled Portobello mushroom, fresh grilled cherry tomatoes, 1 fried egg cooked to perfection and a small pot of hot beans, with fresh salad (mixed leaf salad & Pomegranate seeds served with all meals) and Brown Sauce.

She also does two delightful choices of Mediterranean breakfast (bread, salad, cheeses, meat, mushroom, egg, olives, salad and honey).

You can choose, meals that are naturally vegetarian, and don’t leave that empty ‘claim to fame’ feeling and hole in your stomach and pocket afterwards, like when you go to ‘Yo Sushi’.  

Yet, nicely fed, but not over full.

All meals are served with my favourite, multi grain toast and pure Irish butter. I have this with a couple slices of toast during the week. She serves the toast with squares of butter and jam on a minature, clay, rectangular tray.

As well as a new ice coffee machine, cakes, cookies, pastries and cute noisette macarons on the bar; “did you make them (?) ” I ask, “Just buy them” her daughter replies, she has used the people who orbit her to make her life easier.

And pleasurable for her customers, equally so.

I guess she is a prime example of how ‘lockdown’ and taking a ‘pause’ from capitalism as well, can allow you to flourish.

She has used, her time, on herself, to allow her and accordingly her business, to flourish, with a personal lady’s touch. 

It’s also, quite funny, because her and her husband equally are falling over each other to keep each other happy and cannot seem to get over each other.

I guess, people will do, what they want to do.

Irrespective of who or what you think they are.

Although my Jamaican neighbour calls me something along the lines of a nosy parker, we all just like to look after each other I guess. 

He ends up laughing at me, after I call his phone multiple times to get my phone out his flat and he starts shouting at me, at the time he thinks I am trying to ruin his date. 

He still calls me at 3 am, because he’s worried, he can hear me coughing. 

We are a population of nosy parkers, ‘some mothers do ave em’, flat footed Pike’s from an army that cannot be enlisted, and leaders like Blackadder with less credibility than the servants they try to stifle, yet employ.

Although we are all foreign, Great Britain is not a country that is known for being the ‘social security state’ in foreign countries as some of their leaders may try to depict, I like to think of this country as having a more ‘community centred approach’ to life. 

At the end of the day, we all help each other, or at least have a laugh about it, or check on each other, on a regular basis because we know, especially and particularly ignited, highlighted embodied and fostered, by the working class in this particular country, that we are all different, but all together.

This also has to be, probably one of the most multi cultural, accepting and democratic of countries in Europe to live.

‘Eat Out to Help Out’ taken to another level.

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