The Old Lady at Café Water

This morning, I was catching up on the blogs… Then I came across Crash’s entry. Where he mentioned that he was in the coffee shop, and then the stranger decided to chat with him and stuff like that.

All of the sudden, flash backs of something that happened to me earlier this year came to my eyes.

Yes. The Old lady. From Café Water.

If my memory haven’t failed me, it was February of 2003, just couple months after I started my new job here in New York. I wasn’t too familiar with the restaurants around work. I would only go to the places that were shown by my sister.

It was on a cloudy afternoon, where I got out of a meeting late. Two O’clock in the afternoon, I recall. I went to Café Water, just a couple blocks down the street. To be honest, the place is very expensive. Where you get a empty plastic box, and fill it up with all sorts of food on the buffet counter. At the end, the amount that you have to pay is based on the weight plus text. Well, a little tiny scoop of shrimp salad cost me five dollars. It was a rip off.

Anyway, I got my salad and a bottle of Snapple. Since all the individual tables were taken, I said down on the long table, and share the space with a couple strangers.

I have never, talk to anyone that I don’t know, in a restaurant. Even in clubs or bars, no strangers approached me nor I approach any. That’s just how it is in my life.

After I sat down on the chair and begun my feeding process… An old lady who sat in front of me, handed me a stack of napkins.

“You might need these.” She said with a heavy accent.

I thanked her, and took a couple of napkins out of her hands. (She didn’t see that I have a thick stack of napkins on my left knee)

I returned to my feeding of the shrimp salad… Then she started to talk.

“You know. I like Asian people.”

I raised my head and smiled at her. Then returned to my food.

“You Japanese people are so intelligent, polite and considerate.”

I raised my head and look at her in the eyes.

“I’m sorry Madam, but I’m Chinese.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

I smiled again, and then face my shrimp salad.

“I’m German.”

I looked up.

“I have been living in New York for over 35 years.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“I hate every minutes of it.”

I didn’t know what to say. Then she start to talk about her life, and how she moved here when she was young… I just kept on nodding my head, trying not to be rude. But the entire time, I was thinking about finishing up my food and returning to work.

But it would be rude for me to eat, while an elderly is talking. So, I kept my ears opened and look into her eyes. As if, I understand every single word that came out of her dried and pale lips.
Scrabbling out of the words mixing with the accent. I tried my hardest, to understand her.

“The Americans, they took everything. Everything I have.” She looked at me, and lowered her voice. She had tears flowing down her cheek.

She looked around, trying to see if anyone heard what she said… and whispered to me…”The Americans took my house, my jewelry, and my life. The damn Americans!”

I was speechless. The poor old lady, expressedso much emotion in her words. The tears of sorrow and hatred made her image even more fragile. I felt very sorry for her.

I felt very sorry for her that she has such anger and hatred. She must have been carrying such rage in the past 35 years of her life in New York.

I’d like to comfort her, but I couldn’t agree with what she had to say. First of all, I’d never been though what she experienced. I couldn’t relate to her situation.

Then when I think about Germany and New York… Something happened in 1968? What could have happened to this German lady, that ruined her life? I certainly don’t hate Americans. For one thing, I’m an American myself. (Asian American, to be specific)

But still, I cannot relate to her. And I still couldn’t agree with her. So, I said:

“Well, that’s life. Sometimes, things just don’t go the way you want it to be. It couldn’t be the government’s fault, or anything else. I’m very sorry for what happened to you. I’m not familiar with the History of New York or what happened to your family, but all I know is, no matter what happened to us, we have to move on and continue to live our lives. Keep on looking back in life and mourning about the past, will not make us feel any better. Life goes on, right?”

She blinked her eyes as if she didn’t hear what I said.

“That is why I like Japanese people. You Japanese people are so nice.”

I picked up my fork and place it inside of the plastic container.

“I’m Chinese.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

She got up and put on her coat.

“Well, I must go now. Nice talking with you.”

I smiled.

The following the back of her little body, she walked out of the restaurant and down the street.

As I turned my head back to my shrimp salad. I noticed, there were some people sitting in the corner, looking at my direction. They were giving me the face, as if they were thinking…”Gosh, how can you stand her?”

Without a second though, I swallowed the entire shrimp salad and rushed back to work.

That was the first time and last time, I was engaged in a conversation with a stranger in a restaurant. (Not that I had a choice. She kept on talking.)