Like so many Greeks before him, Stathis Makrakis arrived in New York City with a couple hundred euros to his name, the phone number of a distant cousin and an amulet his aunt Kalliopi had secretly sewn into his jacket.
Working the Astoria diner circuit, he barely makes enough to cover his lodgings, let alone his nightly English classes which are essential to his dream of making it as a big shot somebody in Manhattan.
Then he stumbles across Laura and everything changes.
It was a slow day at the diner. It was sunny which meant that most of the drop-in lunchtime clientele were eating their gyros and Greek salads alfresco. Sebastiano, the short order cook had called in sick, Mrs. Androniki – the restaurant manager who also happened to be the owners wife and Stathis’ host, employer and distant cousin – had also mysteriously failed to turn up. That left Dimitri, the main server, in charge. Wasting no time, he relegated Stathis to the dining floor for the first time, he put Manuel, the dish washer, in charge of the the diner’s principal cooking appliance, the microwave, and he set himself up in the alley with his ciggies to catch up on the football highlights.
Apart from the regulars and a handful of tourists that forgot to get off the N Train at Lex & 59th and winding up in Queens decided they may as well go to the end of the line and get an authentic Greek lunch, Stathis noticed only one unfamiliar face.
A slender woman with unremarkable features, Laura was a study in sartorial contradictions. Purple opaque tights over a faded green linen sundress cinched at the waist with a man’s tan braided belt inexplicably paired with platform wedges and topped off with an ecru velvet headband that failed to keep her unkempt hair in place. As Stathis approached and handed her the lunch menu, she waved it away with an immaculately manicured hand that was weighed down with a handsome Rolex.
“I’ll have three Greek coffees. One sketos (bitter), one metrios (semi sweet), and one glykos (sweet)…. Actually make that four, add a vari glykos (extra strong and sweet).”
“Shall we wait until your friends arive?” Stathis ventured. “….so they don’t get cold?” he added helpfully.
“What friends? I’m not expecting anyone else,” she said looking at him blankly. “It’s just me.”
“Oh, sorry I must have misunderstood. Didn’t you just order four coffees?”
Laura fixed Stathis with an an impatient stare.
“Well, that is a lot of coffee for one person to drink all at once,” Stathis mumble defensively.
With a tilt of her head and an eye squint, the universal symbol for ‘you are a total idiot’ Laura replied, “Who said anything about drinking it?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Stathis went to hit the enter button on the app only to discover that the order had timed out. Sheepishly, he ventured, “Can you repeat your order?”
Impatiently Laura asked, “Is Dimitri here? He normally takes my order. Can you go get him?”
“Um he’s in the back today doing inventory. I’m kind of new, it's my first time on the dining room floor.”
“No! You don’t say?” Laura responded with thinly veiled sarcasm. Then she repeated her order very slowly and VERY LOUDLY.
“Greek coffes. Four. Sketos (bitter), Metrios (semi sweet), Glykos (sweet), Vari Glykos (extra strong and sweet).”
Hitting send on the app, Stathis said, “They’re on their way, lady” but Laura had already turned back to her book.
*Το Φλυτζανι or The Flitzani is a once beloved - but now slightly outdated pastime - in Greece that harks way back to olden days. Tasseography to the erudite amongst us, or Καφεμαντεια to Greeks, reading the flitzani is a form of interpreting the past, explaining the present and divining the future by deciphering the symbols in the coffee dregs at the bottom of the drinker's cup. But not just anyone can read the Flitzani!
Комментарии