A Plethora of Outings: Part Two-Cafe Hell

The day of Cafe Hell started innocently enough with the usual 2 hour family negotiations. The suggestions of zoo, museum and botanic gardens were eventually thrown out in favour of the Maritime Museum's pirate exhibition and show (twice daily: music, mayhem and pirate adventure). By the time we had determined how many cars we needed; who would travel in each car; who got to sit next to whom and where we would meet up; driven down there; argued over who was paying (I'm paying, no I'm paying etc etc), we had an hour to kill for lunch before the pirate show started.

"Where can we get a sandwich?" my sister asked the girl on the desk.
"Well, there's the one across the road but that's a little more expensive,"
it was also, inexplicably closed during the height of the tourist season, "or there's a sandwich bar about a block away on the main street," she informed us.

We made out way around to the cafe where my sister, ever aware of the perils of trying to organise big (and especially family) groups, decided we should all order separately. She quickly placed an order but was told she could not pay straight away as the girl did not know how to use the till. This should have been a warning to us.

I took my place at the counter next to her; it was approximately 1.07pm

The first thing I noticed was the two gormless looking late teenage girls standing idly about as a middle aged (obviously shop owner) woman flew from one thing to another. One of the girls, let's call her Kylie 1, in slow motion, reached for an avocado and cut it open to reveal brownish, speckled flesh. Seemingly unconcerned, she spread it nonchalantly.

Owner: Kylie, KYLIE
Kylie: (huh what? who me?) Yea?
Owner: Brown avocado is no good, you can't use it, scrape it off.
Kylie: Wha'?
Owner: The avocado, it's no good, that 's why its gone brown. Scrape it off and get another one
from the cool room.
Kylie moves off, again in slow motion.......

Meanwhile, there are obviously phone orders coming in from local businesses because there are a lot more things happening behind the counter than my sister's order and the owner keeps calling out to people who appear randomly in the doorway.
"Sorry Susie, won't be long, we're a bit busy, do you mind the veggie sandwich without cream cheese cos I can't find the cream cheese...?"
"Er no, I really like the cream cheese."
Owner stops what she is doing and rushes off to search out some more cream cheese.
Kylie 1 and 2 stare at each other as if unsure what to do next, move off in slow motion, bump into each other......

It is now 1.15pm and I have not been served.

Susie is served, and Bob and John and Katie are served, and then my sister's orders start appearing.

It is now 1.20pm and I have not been served.

Kylie and her offsider continue to move as if tranquilised although the scraped off avocado has been replaced by fresh. On the same piece of bread. At this point, my sister, who is still trying to pay comes in and stands with me.
"Have you noticed," she whispers, "the Owner has plastic gloves on but none of the assistants do."

The word salmonella sears itself across my brain like a flash of lightning.

It is now 1.25pm and I have not been served.
My mother joins me at the counter (This is never a good sign. somehow this must be my fault).
"What are they doing to that hot dog?" she asks as Kylie 2 puts it into a sandwich toaster and squeezes it flat.

At 1.35pm I am served.

"I would like two chicken, lettuce and tomato sandwiches and two ham tomato and lettuce sandwiches(I had learned from watching not to ask for 'salad'....this involved slow motion asking you if you wanted beetroot? cucumber?carrot? etc etc etc). I would like a hot dog and chips a pot of tea for two and a chocolate milkshake.

Kylie 2's brain leaks out through her ear and drips onto the note pad where she has incorrectly spelled 2/3 of the order.

"I don't know how to make a milkshake," she says to the Owner who flies past like a tornado with hands full of baked potato and Payless margarine.
"Norelle will do that...NORELLE!!!!"
Norelle emerges from the back room. She has Down's Syndrome. She looks infinitely more capable than Kylie 1 and 2.

"I'll pay now," I suggested.
"Errrr.....I don't know ....,"begins Kylie 2.
"....how to use the till. OK I'll pay later," I sigh.

We make our way out to the kerbside table to await whatever they manage to bring us. Meanwhile my sister's children have finished eating and her sandwich has just arrived. The pirate show starts at 2pm and my mother's usual fret-fest is escalating.

It is 1.50pm. Our food arrives. It is predictably tasteless, after all we forgot to tell them to put salt and pepper on it. The chocolate milkshake appears to have no chocolate in it. Not a small amount, like a weak chocolate milkshake but no chocolate at all. Perhaps Kylie 2 made it after all. The pot of tea arrives. It is accompanied by a steaming jug of frothed, cappuccino style milk. My mother's eyes begin to bulge and I decide it is time to take the children off to the pirate show. Quickly.

When the children are in place (that's them on the balcony) I realise I don't have my camera with me (OMG it's the Wimpy Bar revisited). Relax, my sister arrives having brought my camera with her and having finally paid for everyone's lunch.
"Guess how much I paid?" she whispers,"thirty two dollars! It was going to be twenty-five because the girl couldn't find where she'd written down the order and she only charged me for the sandwiches and a baked potato. I reminded her about our drinks and the hot dog."
"What about my Small Boy's hotdog and chips?"
"Er, no I forgot that."
"And the pot of tea? The bottle of lemonade?"
"Ummmm no, forgot them too. Just as well really because she looked quite put out that I kept wanting her to add to the total."

Mum and Dad arrived shortly afterwards.







"Let that be a lesson to you Kylie! Hot, frothy milk is for COFFEE not TEA, you unspeakable heathen!!!!!"


(Do not mess with my Mum, she used to be a Headmistress)








After the show we investigated the interactive parts of the museum. There was the colonial ship's quarters to test.




Ginger:My, my it has been a long trip from the
UK to my new homeland.
Small Boy: Why am I up here again?
The BA: Oh, you children are so immature.













There was the cabin from the 1950s which, as Mum pointed out, was remarkably similar to the one we occupied on our trip to Australia in 1962 on SS Arcadia. Dad found a data base of immigrant arrivals in Port Adelaide, located our ship and scrolled through expectantly, only to find the records stop in 1959.












Eventually, after we had seen the museum, argued over not buying rubbish in the gift shop and had a real cup of coffee in a real cafe, Mum and Dad headed home with Small Boy Jnr, who hates to walk, while the rest of us went for a wander on the docks.

We saw some jellyfish,
and a lighthouse
and we discovered some talents.

Firstly, The Small Boy.



Then Ginger. This is really impressive, I think.



Then my sister and I.


I pulled a pectoral muscle in this exercise!

The Baby Angel was discovered to have no talents at all, according to her. Exhausted we began to make our way home.
"I'm thirsty, I can't wait til we get home, I need a drink now."
My sister and I agreed to find a shop and buy a bottle of drink. A shop. (looking around) anywhere? No, not THAT one. Not the Cafe from Hell. Surely there must be another shop somewhere here? Anywhere? No?

My sister and I look at each other.
"Well, I'm not going back in there."
"Don't look at me, I'm not going back either..."

Eventually we sent the Baby Angel down with some money. She looked back at us.
"It's closed!!!" she announced.
Typical.

We went and had some lemon squash at the pub where the BA discovered her talent: holding pieces of ice onto the end of her straw by suction.