Kaima sat at her desk staring at pieces of papers that looked important; her glasses nestled on the bridge of her pointed nose as she flipped from paper to paper. As a financial analyst, everything on a financial document was important because the facts and figures on the document are either; authentic, false, complete or incomplete, thus no stone could be left unturned whilst reading one.
The climatic condition in her office had changed from summer to slight winter as the split unit poured out cool air which seemed to help relax her nerves and put out the burning headache that was warming up in her head. She stole a quick glance at her Rolex, and learnt that it was time for lunch. ‘Damn!’ She exclaimed ‘how did time fly so fast?’ The last time she checked her watch it was 8 am and now it was 5 minutes past noon. The question of what to eat started to form a diplomatic debate in her mind. She felt like eating yam and fried egg, blessed with shredded beef, garnished shrimps, and a cold refreshing bottle of yogurt. She picked her cell phone and dialed her friend. The phone rang for about 30 seconds.
‘Hello love,’ the voice at the other end said.
‘Hi Cynthia,’ Kaima replied
‘What can I do for you?’ Cynthia asked.
‘Remember that restaurant you told me about,’ she paused trying to remember the name of the restaurant, Cynthia could hear her tapping on her desk, she pictured her well manicured fingers drumming on her polished 21st century office table, a smirk appeared on her face.
‘The name of the restaurant is Magic menu’ she relieved her from the misery of trying to remember.
‘Ah yes! Magic menu, you know sweetheart I really haven’t gotten the kick you promised I’ll get from patronizing them’ she said sadly.
‘Sorry dear’ her close friend said sympathetically, ‘what chef numbers have served you, when you ordered food from there?’ Cynthia inquired.
‘Numbers 4, 8 and 12’ she replied.
Cynthia could feel the disappointment in her voice, ‘maybe you should try chef 26’, she suggested.
‘Chef 26’, Kaima repeated, ‘is the chef good?’
‘You’ll have to find out yourself, and when you give me a feedback I’ll be able to boom the words I told you so, when we see this weekend.’
‘Okay love, thanks for the info.’
‘Anytime sugar, bye.’
‘Bye.’ The line went dead; she placed her cell phone on the table and switched her attention to the laptop on her desk, opened her email account and composed an email to the magic menu restaurant. The beauty about the service of the magic menu restaurant was that you could either place a call to order for your menu and give them the place and time of delivery, or you could email your order, with info about the place and time of delivery. She had never been to the restaurant before, but she had a faint idea of what the place looked like when she checked it out on the web, the place looked like all modern eateries on the Island, ‘and if chef 26 impresses me I’ll be forced to pay the restaurant a visit in person’ she thought. She finished typing her order, with the place and time of delivery well spelt out, she read the email again and was sure she had said everything that needed to be said she sent the email to the email address of the restaurant. In about 10-15 minutes her order would be delivered to the front desk of the office.
Kaima must have been carried away with all the paper work on her desk, as she certainly didn’t know that someone or something was knocking at the door of her office. ‘Is that a knock?’ she said to herself, she listened closely, it was definitely a knock.
‘Yes come in’ she said, and in appeared a young woman in her early twenties with a customized white nylon bag that had the name magic menu printed in bold red on it.
‘This was just delivered to the front desk for you madam,’ said the young woman.
‘Oh! Thank you Nkechi, am so sorry I didn’t attend to the door soon enough.’
‘I understand madam,’ Nkechi replied with a broad smile, placed the package on Kaima’s desk and headed for the door.
Kaima brought the package closer; she retrieved the food from the nylon and opened it slowly. The aroma from the plate of food rippled through her office, her stomach began to hum some rhythm and blues she often heard when a meal appealed to her senses. ‘It may look good and smell good, but it may not taste good,’ she said pessimistically. She retrieved the white plastic fork, knife and spoon that came with the food, she dipped the fork into the yam and used the knife to spread some egg, and shredded beef on it, the fork traveled mechanically and meticulously to her mouth, when its contents landed on her taste buds, her face brightened like the sun at noon. ‘Wow’! She exclaimed this is delicious; she couldn’t stop herself from digging deeper into the meal. Some minutes later, the plate was empty, even the oil from the fried egg was gone, Kaima just couldn’t help herself, the meal was delicious, sensational, just what she needed to finish her Friday at the office on a high.
The food seemed to help lift her mood, she pulled away from her desk and headed to the table top fridge which idled in a corner of her office, she took out a strawberry flavored yogurt, and a bottle of water, she opened the yogurt and turned it towards her mouth, the refreshing taste was the right side kick for the excellent lunch she just ate. Next came the bottle of water, after few gulps, she felt renewed and empowered, within an hour she was done with all the paper work on her desk and was now ready to head home. ‘Chef 26 huh?’ she said to herself, will try this chef more often, whoever she is seems to really know how to cook food that stimulates good mood.
On Saturday, Cynthia stopped by Kaima’s house in Victoria Garden City, for their usual weekend excitement marathon, that included a visit to the gym on Saturday morning, ice cream and movies in the afternoon, fries and chicken in the evening. Then on Sunday after church, a family and friends gathering at Cynthia’s place, barbecue at Cynthia’s backyard whose floor is rug with synthetic carpet grass, and dinner which usually consisted of confectioneries and home-made yogurt. Sometimes their excitement marathon could vary depending on their mood or the weather.
‘You know Cyndy, that chef 26 is a real stunner’, Kaima said as she tried to catch her breath, with her legs pounding on the treadmill at the gym. ‘Really?’ Cynthia replied with glee, she was opposite her friend with her legs also pounding on a treadmill, ‘I told you so’ Cyndy remarked, ‘he had the same effect on me when I tasted his meal one day, I ordered for fried rice, with grilled lamb meat, chicken salad and three chunks of peppered meat, Damn girl!, I felt like a fish in water, he turned my good mood on like a charm.’
‘Sorry to interrupt Cyndy, did you just refer to chef 26 as he?’ Kaima asked with a puzzled stare.
…….to be continued