Your Waiter Has A PhD

Part 2 of the ‘60 second read’ series

He tucks a small folded note beneath my wineglass. I open it and see a calligraphic scrawl Cd70. BBM pin? Post code? My table number? Mystified I turn to look for the waiter. Unable to spot him in the swirl and haze of the kitchen, my eyes go back to the note on the table. There is a small heap of white powder on the note now. Panic begins to grip me. What is that?? Coke? I look around me wildly,..who placed it there? The tables around me have people immersed in animated conversation, oblivious to my panic. I grab my ipad and keys, lower my sunglasses, leave a few bills hurriedly on the table, and rush out onto the street.

The late afternoon air is still golden, but clear and crisp. My woozy head seems to clear as I walk rapidly home. Thoughts race through my head- why was I woolly headed a few moments ago? What was Cd70? Where did the white powder come from? What was it? What happened to the note?

Lunging up the stairs, two at a time, I reached the front door my heart pounding from the exercise and my ricocheting thoughts. As I remove the key from the door, my fingers rub against some graininess on the keyring. I look at my fingers. Salt? I sniff at my fingers...an unfamiliar smell.