Robert Lalah, Assistant Features Editor

People get testy when they're hungry and fast-food outlets like this one, become the scenes of some colourful action. - Robert Lalah photos

All I was trying to do was get some food and leave. But last Friday night inside a crowded St Andrew patty shop, it seemed fate had other plans for me. It all started when I was standing in line. The air conditioning seemed to have been on the fritz and the customers were getting testy.

"Lawd man! Unno turn on back di breeze!" shouted a pungent fellow beside me. Nobody responded, but a girl standing next to him with a finger at her nostrils, chuckled.

I looked around me as I inched further ahead in line. Just to my right, there were about 11 people who had already placed their orders and were awaiting their meals. They seemed a displeased bunch. I wondered what was the cause of their distress as I moved up a bit further. Hunger pangs interrupted my thoughts but I was quickly relieved when I looked ahead of me to see that only one person was in front of me, and he had already made his way to the cashier.

"Just a few more seconds," I thought.

"Good evening and welcome," said the cashier to the man, with a smile. Now he was a crabby looking chap with a scar on his cheek the size of a cellphone and he was wearing dark sunglasses even though it was nightime.

"Gimmi two patty and bread," he said, dryly.

"Ten minutes for cocoa bread," the cashier responded.

"Wah? Mi hungry yuh know man! All mi want is two patty and bread, and mek haste!" the man said, again.

The cashier took a deep breath and repeated what she had said earlier.

The man stared at her blankly for a few seconds then said: "Cho, mek mi tek something else."

It was here that he started getting on my nerves. He casually leaned on the counter, looking on the menu posted on the wall in front of him.

"Ahhm ... ahhm ... ahhm," he whispered. Meanwhile, I was getting lightheaded from the hunger. "How much fi di carrot cake?" he asked. The cashier told him the cost.

"Ahhm ... ahhm. Mi nuh too like carrot cake, still," he said. Behind me, a woman complained under her breath about the man's indecision while I silently harboured homicidal thoughts.

"Cho just gimmi one patty alone. No! Gimmi two patty. No! Alright, gimmi di carrot cake, although mi nuh too fancy it," the man said.

"Bwoy mek haste and stop hold up di line!" someone shouted behind me. Everyone chimed in now. "Move outa di line! Mek haste! Hurry up!" people started shouting. The man mumbled something about "ignorant, crosses people," paid for his meal and stepped aside to join the increasingly annoyed group of customers awaiting their orders.

Uncanny resemblance

After placing my own order, I too, joined them with a heavy heart.

I stood in a cramped space between a merino-wearing senior citizen, who shared an uncanny resemblance with Robert Mugabe and a woman in an ankle length, floral skirt, who had earlier tried to sell me religious magazines when I was walking into the building.

"Wah mek unnu nuh tell people seh unnu nuh have nuh patty?" the man beside me shouted.

"Why must we tell you that we don't have any patty, when we have patty?" a woman wearing a hairnet responded from behind the counter.

"Den weh di patty deh? Look how long mi order di patty!" the man retorted. "Cho man! Mi nuh like wait pan food yuh know!" he added.

"Well yuh gwine wait pan food today! Because mi have people fi serve before you. Yuh just come!" the woman in the hairnet responded. Now this did not go over well with the man, and judging by his demea-nor and his resemblance to a dictator, I started getting nervous about what might have happened next.

"Seh wah? Look how long mi deh yah! Hurry up and go fi di patty!" the man shouted.

Now, I braced myself for the woman's comeback, but like everyone else standing nearby, was surprised that the response came instead from behind. "Tap yuh noise!" A shaky old man shouted from the back of the line. He must have been close to 80 years old and had a cross expression on his face.

"Stop rush di food! Sake ah yuh di patty dem nah go bake good, for dem ah go tek dem outa di oven too quick! Tan up and wait!" the elderly man bellowed.

Lack of food

Now queasy from the lack of food, I listened for the response. "Ah who dat? Look how yuh old and tan!" the initial complainer yelled. Now I couldn't help but chuckle out loud, because as far as I could tell, the two were rather close in age.

"Ah wah sweet you?" The Mugabe look-alike had caught me mid-chuckle.

"I ... ah ... er," I mumbled.

"Number eight!" the woman in the hairnet shouted.

"Saved just in time!" I thought. That was my number and I hastily collected my food from the woman and scurried out of the building without saying another word. As I was walking out, I heard someone complaining. "Den how him get through before me?" the person shouted.

robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com.

All that drama for one of these. Was it worth it? Actually, yes!