A Chinese restaurant in Spanish Town, St Catherine. - Photo by Robert Lalah

It's been 15 minutes since Leonard ordered his sweet and sour pork with extragravy and he still hasn't received it. Needless to say, he's not a happy camper.

"Hello! Is wah happen? Look how long mi deh yah a try get di likkle food and all now! Mi baby madda a nuh one easy woman, yuh know. Yuh think mi can just walk in wid di food all hours a di night? Look yah nuh man, nuh mek mi get dark!"

The 40-something-year-old construction worker was shouting inside a take-out Chinese restaurant in Spanish Town, St Catherine. The woman behind the counter, a short, skinny Asian woman with remarkably small ears and a high pitched voice sat up in her chair. "Hello! Mi no telling you dat it soon coming? What happens? You think you more special dan other people?" She was making a valiant attempt at speaking Patois, but it was something of a task trying to understand what she was saying. The quizzical look on Leonard's face showed that he was having the same trouble.

"Yow, talk to mi inna Jamaican, man. Mi nuh chat Japanese, mi nuh know wah yuh a talk bout," he said, waving his hands, wildly. There were about nine other people in the restaurant at the time and near all of them started snickering. This only angered the starving Leonard more.

Food comes at last

"Ah joke yuh teck dis ting fah? Mi hungry yuh know man!" Just then, a woman walked in through a back door with a small, white plastic container. She handed it to Leonard. "Oh, unnu lucky! Mi just did a go get ignorant in yah," he said. With that, the man stormed out.

"Idiot country man," the Asian woman behind the counter whispered. The others started laughing again.

As Leonard disappeared around the corner, in walked Shernette Jackson, a moody, somewhat argumentative hairdresser from nearby March Pen Road. She had curlers in her hair and wore sandals and a house dress that dragged on the floor. "Sell mi one mutton deh!" she shouted before she got to the counter. The woman behind the counter looked her up and down, but did not respond. "Mi seh sell mi one mutton! Wah happen, yuh nuh talk English?" Shernette quipped. The woman behind the counter still said nothing. You could feel the tension in the air.

"Wi nuh sell mutton! Next in line!" the Asian woman finally said, without looking at Shernette.

No mutton

Now, there was fire in Shernette's eyes when she reacted to this dismissal. "Hey gyal, every day mi come yah, yuh do di same sinting. Wah mek yuh nuh start sell mutton?" she said, her index finger in front of her face.

"No mutton!" the Asian woman replied. I took a step back just in case. Shernette's arms were larger than my head and from what I hear, she was something of a dirty fighter. But just when I thought all hell was about to break loose, a familiar voice interjected. "Hello! Mi nuh tell unnu seh mi want extra gravy? Ah wah dis unnu gimmi? Yuh think mi baby madda a go satisfy wid dis likkle bit a gravy? She like nuff gravy!" It was Leonard. He apparently had not got very far before realising that he was not satisfied with his purchase. "Dat nuff gravy," the woman behind the counter replied, taking a break from her confrontation with the hairdresser.

"Do, mi a beg yuh just put likkle toops more pan it. Mi baby madda love whole heap a gravy. She nah go teck dis and she nuh easy at all," Leonard begged, handing the container of food to the woman. He had a terrified look on his face. Feeling sorry for him, I suppose, the woman took the container from Leonard and went into the back room. She soon returned and handed it back to the man who seemed quite relieved. He walked out a seemingly happy man.

Renewed confrontation

This opened up space for the reignition of the confrontation between the hairdresser and restauranteur. "Anyway, when yuh a go start sell mutton? A Jamaica yuh deh. Everybody want mutton," said Shernette.

"Me deh Jamaica six years now and me never hears people ask for mutton. Is you one. No mutton!" was the reply.

'Well, me deh Jamaica longer dan dat. From before mi born, and me know wah people like. So when yuh gwine start sell di likkle mutton?" the hairdresser pressed.

It was here that the woman behind the counter got up from her chair. For fear of getting caught up in what may have transpired thereafter, I decided it would be best to leave the area immediately, so I hurriedly got my things together and scurried outside where I saw Leonard on a bicyle chatting to a stout fellow in a red merino and jeans. "Anyway, mi caan chat to yuh now. Mi baby madda just call and ask weh mi deh wid di food so long. More time!" I heard him say, before he pedalled off like his life depended on it.

robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com