At the cafe

When my son was just old enough to enjoy day trips into Adelaide city, there were three destinations we often spent our day visiting. The Botanic Gardens offered a natural environment; leaf shapes, ice creams, cacti, and meeting my partner were often on our agenda. The museum was also a place my son's intelligence thrived. He was bright beyond his years. For example, at the age of just four, he was curious enough to ask me if worms had tongues. Not knowing the answer, nor finding it from a library book, I asked his question at the museum. We found out that no, worms did not have tongues.

The third favored place was a burger caf. It was not just an ordinary fast food store, but it had singing waiters, a jukebox facility, and the meals were prepared in front of your eyes at the back of the room. Therefore, the food was fresh and cooked to order. My young son loved this atmosphere. We often popped in after our trip to the city to have a milk shake or burger before heading home.

On one occasion, we had ordered our feast to celebrate a birthday or some other specific event and were seated awaiting the arrival of our meal. I noticed that a certain song kept on appearing on the jukebox. After the fourth or fifth time, I began to wonder why someone would pay to hear the same song repeatedly. Why did they not simply purchase a CD or cassette and enjoy it at home - why pay for it to play so often? By the time our meal was served, along came a smiling face from the other side of the room. Previously hidden by the central bar area, my partner had come to surprise us. He had specifically picked the song, knowing I wished to visit the city of Chicago, wondering if our plans to do so together would establish the fact that he was here, sipping his milkshake around the corner.