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- Excuse Me
- You keep an unwavering gaze upon the clock hung up on the wall in front of you. You sit in Moe’s Cafe, in Ogunquit, Maine, waiting for a mechanic to complete the necessary reparations for your Volvo XC40. Upon your booth table is your completed meal: a bowl of tomato soup, a cup of pineapple juice, and a tray containing traces of melted Nutella; the sole remainder of your lava cake. The meal was delicious and you are still savoring its aftertaste in your mouth. The mechanic had said that your Volvo would be mended by 1:40 P.M. It is 12:10.#160;In the corner of your table is a magazine stand that holds a set of the 2007 edition of Motor Trend. You flip to the section discussing vintage cars and their auction prices and begin to read. Time passes by. Rain cascades down the windows and creates a soothing drumbeat. You forget your surroundings, your meal, everything except the magazine in front of you. Eventually, even that becomes a haze, and you close your eyes and sleep.
- Someone taps your shoulder. You jolt awake. It's Moe, the restaurant’s owner, and head chef, still clad in his Polo Ralph Lauren jeans and black oxford shirt. He had buttoned his shirt collar so that it crisply presses against his neck. He also has abandoned his apron and holds a leather briefcase in his hands.“Excuse me,” He says, “But as you know, the cafe will be closing at 1:00.”
- You were wholly unaware of this rule. Your eyes momentarily go wide as you notice that the clock reads 12:55. The family of four that had been sitting in the booth ahead of you were nowhere to be seen. Your food plates, which had been atop your table, were taken away. You apologize and get up to leave when Moe shakes his head, muttering to himself quietly.#160;#160;“This will be our final day of business. Of course, I've offered to sell this cafe, but no one has answered my advertisements ” Moe murmurs. You can’t decide who he is speaking to; himself, or you.
- You feel bad. Out of interest and sympathy, you ask how much your price was.“Twenty dollars or so,” Moe says blanky, “Of course, it’s not negotiable, but…”“Twenty?!” You inquire, shocked.“Yes, twenty. I tried to keep my asking price reasonable.”“I’ll buy it!” You inject without hesitation.#160;
- Moe looks surprised but doesn’t question your decision. He lifts his briefcase and takes out a heavy stack of papers held together with a flimsy, metal paperclip. You find it odd that he had been carrying it around, but Moe explains it had been with him in case the need would arise. You briskly sign the papers with your neat signature and write your address, telephone number, income, etc, upon the lines where the information is asked for.#160;You had been looking for a rational side investment for several months but had been unable to find one. Now, however, you are presented with a perfect opportunity. If you can just properly clean the cafe to get an A from the Department of Sanitation, you are certain the business would flourish with no further dilemmas.
- Moe tells you the closing date will be three weeks from tomorrow. You nod and feel a smile growing on your face. You give him the papers and get up, scrutinizing the cafe. You open the rusted and decrepit door and walk out.
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