The
atmosphere is "we're all in this together" in this spontaneous event,
very convivial, a brief comersion of rich and poor, patrons and
workers. It's hot, and amid the talk, people are guzzling ice water and
asking for refills like there's no tomorrow. You can hear the click of
ice cubes against glass all over. The waitrons are happy to oblige,
whisking around with big pitchers of water, commenting on the forgery
and pouring water here and there. At my table the waitron pours water
into our glasses and I take a satisfying pull of clear ice cold water.
The guy is just about to go away to refill the pitcher when another
table nearby waves to him urgently about something. He can't do two
things at once so he stands there for a second and in a moment that
crosses the usual boundaries he turns to look at me, holds out the empty
pitcher and asks if I would do him the favor of refilling the pitcher
with water.
This
is THE LOOK - our eyes are locked and a lot is going on in that look.
He's taking advantage of this spontaneous democratic atmosphere, and I'm
wondering why me and why should I and am I obligated. But I am thirsty
so.... I say ok. He is greatly relieved and pushes the pitcher into my
hands and mutters something about the kitchen being back there before
rushing off to the other table.
So
I get up and move uncertainly to the back of the big central room.
There's no kitchen, just a sink, and I fill the pitcher. I'm just about
to go back to join in the fun when I look down and notice there's just a
couple of weakass little leftover ice cubes floating on the top of the
pitcher. The water's cold, but its not ICE COLD. This won't do. That was
the whole thing that made the water so good - the ice. I look back at
what is now a party and look around for an ice machine, but there isn't
any. I've got a choice to make - go back or look for ice. The ice wins.
There's
a couple halls leading out of the room so I walk down one holding the
pitcher of water. The sounds of the party fade and it seems the rest of
the center is empty. And no ice machines. Everything looks dark, weird
and eerie as I proceed. I get to a room and there's a woman there. She
turns and asks, "so what should I paint?" Turns out she's here for a
class and we chat and I clear up the misunderstanding. "I'm just looking
for some ice" I say, hefting the pitcher by way of explanation. I ask
her if there's a fridge or ice machine nearby and she gives vague
directions to another part of the center, so I head off again, in search
of ice for the pitcher of water.
