She was cooking in the kitchen. The clear glass wall allowed me to see everything inside. At that moment, I wasn't sure what to call her—a waitress or a chef? She was probably the dishwasher too, and everything else.
"Two plates of tomatoes," Mah told her. At first, I assumed it was some sauce or salad, but then her follow-up question made my mind whirl:
"How many tomatoes per plate?"
"What do you think?" Mah asked, seeking my opinion. I only stared at him blankly.
"Give us five medium-sized tomatoes per plate," he said, and she turned to leave.
"Not quite what you expected?" he asked suddenly.
I shifted in my seat and sighed. "Not quite unexpected."
"Blatant liar!" snapped a long-bearded young man seated next to us—specifically beside Mah on the first row. "He ordered raw tomatoes, and you say that's not unexpected?"
"Not unexpected to me," I replied firmly. "In this world, there's no absolute limit to possibilities. Anything can happen by either natural or supernatural means and so we must always incorporate the expectation of anything."
The bearded kid pulled a long face, sighed, and said, "Crap! You claim to have anticipated it, and yet your expression betrays you. Hypocrite! There's apparent shock on your dumb face."
In response, my muscles trembled with rage. I held my breath, then slowly exhaled several times. I often do this to suppress excessive anger that could lead to impulsive outbursts.
"Well," I said after another deep breath, "I admit I'm shocked. I never intended to deny that. I get shocked quite a bit by a lot of possibilities. It's a natural response to stimuli—one that I, like all humans, am too weak and too slow to fully control. That doesn't mean I found it unexpected. I regard it as a sudden and rare occurrence."
The bearded kid shook his head in dissatisfaction. The futility of trying to explain myself to him struck my fragile, yet ever-healing heart. I was more than willing to keep backing my views until he was satisfied—but I encountered a decisive hindrance.