“I’m hungry”, my friend stated the obvious at 2 P.M, as we made our way to the food court. “What should we eat today?” she asked.
“I don’t know…I’m so bored of this food court. Plus they shut down our favourite pasta place.”
“Ugh. You know what? We should check out the other side of the food court. We never go there.”
“Erm…we don’t go there for a reason?!” I rolled my eyes at her. “That place looks sad.”
This is the conversation we both have all the time. And every day we end up with pretty much the same menu: Subway, Hardees, or shawarma. EEW to KFC.
“This is absolutely why I hate this time. No place to sit at all. Where do we go?” As usual, my friend sulked for the littlest things. While she ordered her lunch, I looked around in hope of finding a seat. But then I bumped into some classmates and we filled each other up with current events – and discussed classes.
“Hey man, I really liked today’s seminar. I LOVE it when two entirely different mind-sets debate! Also, I’m clueless for the travelogue…I dunno what to do!”
“Uh yeah…hey I have to go, my friend’s got her lunch and looks like I just found a place to sit. Bye!”
But as usual the table was unclean and I put down my handbag on the chair, waiting for the cleaner to do his job. He came and cleaned up, and said “sorry ma’am” with a tone that made me feel small.
I felt guilty. He didn’t have to apologise. He wasn’t responsible for that heap of rubbish on the table; some rowdy college students were. And I certainly didn’t deserve to be called “ma’am” by a humble cleaner.
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I think I’ve learnt to clean up after my own mess, no matter how big or small. And sometimes, when I remember to not be a pampered, stuck up teenager, I clear up the table I used – without expecting
somebody else to do it for me.
Untamed Reflections 