warnmcr: week two at Hunt & Darton Cafe

Dani Abulhawa on balancing the demands of work life with loyalty...

Day 5 – Monday 9th March

On Mondays and Tuesdays the café is closed, but that doesn’t mean it fails to occupy public consciousness – quite the contrary, as I hope this week’s blog will show. I live in Manchester, but I work in Sheffield. When I got to the station on Monday morning, I had a little bit of time to kill and a runny nose (having cycled particular fast).

I went in to the Boots shop at the train station to buy my regular purchase of a packet of tissues, and when I went to pay, the woman who served me said, ‘that’s an interesting helmet’ and pointed to my shiny gold cycling helmet attached to the straps of my bag. ‘Yes’, I replied, and was about to give my usual speech about how it renders me very visible on the road when the woman interrupted and exclaimed, ‘Oh! I recognise you; were you in the café the other day?’ Instantly I recognised her as Alpen woman. 

She told me how much she had enjoyed visiting the café, on a whim, and how unexpected the whole experience was. She had just finished a long shift at Boots when her husband suggested they go and have a drink at what they thought was a standard pop-up café.

She had spoken to her colleagues and her boss about the café, and mentioned that her boss was planning on conducting a meeting with some people from head office in there, as a surprise. I really hope I’m in there when that happens.

Day 6 and 7 – Wednesday 11th March and Thursday 12th March

Despite my best attempts, I didn’t manage to get to the café at all on Wednesday and Thursday. Work really gets in the way of tea and cake, and art. But, I thought about the café and Hunt and Darton frequently. I wondered whether Alpen lady’s boss had had his meeting? I wondered who was sat in my seat, drinking from my previous cups – the ghost of my lips meeting theirs.

Day 8 – Friday 13th March

I managed to get back from work with half an hour left of Friday’s unhappy hour. The lights were dimmed and the café tables were full, whilst Lowri Evans and Sara Cocker conducted a game of age concerns bingo.

I sat with John at the back of the café and waited for my age to be called out. ’27, 80, 34, 8, 19, 32’, ‘Yes!’ I shouted, at the same time as another woman across the café from me. Lowri asked me to tell her about something that is less good now I’m 32 than it was before. ‘I don’t seem to be able to recover very well from drinking too much anymore’, I said.

As closing time approached, Lowri and Sara, and Hunt and Darton began an impromptu karaoke to ‘Let’s Dance’ by David Bowie and the rest of us danced and clapped along. Hunt and Darton contacted the real Darton (who was at home celebrating her birthday) and we sang her happy birthday via FaceTime.

A man appeared suddenly from upstairs (I think it was the chef). I felt like I’d seen something I wasn’t supposed to, like the wings, or backstage.

As I paid for my coffee I was given the final stamp on my loyalty card. Hunt gasped and said that I was to be rewarded. I laughed, nervously. Hunt and Darton took me outside and both got down on one knee (are they going to ask me to marry them? I thought). With outstretched ‘jazz hands’ they grinned wildly and produced a badge reading ‘LOYAL’. Darton explained that I should wear it at all times when visiting the café, and Hunt said that I would now be treated very differently.

Day 9 – Saturday 14th March

I had to go in to work, so I vowed that I would get back in time for at least unhappy hour. I turned up to the café at about 5.15 and ordered a trio of sandwiches and my usual coffee. I was sat on Alpen lady’s table – in her seat – so I was quite close to the cakes. The guest waitress today was the wonderful Eirini Kartsaki, who sashayed from table to table administering massage, talking and dancing with patrons.

By the time my sandwiches had arrived – beautiful sandwich rectangles in a Jenga configuration (with the crusts off) – I had already been seduced away from savoury by a chocolate cake. So, I ordered a slice and something from the performance set menu titled ‘Africa’. Africa combined the poise and visual attention of a meerkat with the rhythm of a gazelle and the pace of a giraffe. I highly recommend this dish.

Later on, Martin the regular arrived, followed by Hunt’s Dad and step-Mum who sat with me at Alpen lady’s table. We talked about the difference between Manchester and Cambridge.

As the day turned in to evening and unhappy hour arrived things got stranger and more wonderful. The lights were dimmed, the microphone was on. Eirini spoke softly and lustfully of lost love on public transport, whilst others relayed disappointments of a more pedestrian nature. At the back of the café a young couple relaxing after a busy day shopping spoke of their unhappiness over a missed purchase of a designer handbag. Fortunately Hunt and Darton were on hand to convert their paper Zara bag into something more fancy.

In the midst of unhappy hour there was an interruption. Martin got up from his seat and asked Hunt’s dad for her hand in marriage (getting down on one knee himself). Hunt’s Dad declined on the grounds that he felt it would make Hunt very unhappy.

Day 10 – Sunday 15th March

Unhappy hour.

I agreed to visit Derby with Dave on the proviso that he would go with me to the café at the end of the day (he is a little uncertain about the idea of a performance café).

We got back at 6.30 only to realise that the café had shut at 5pm.

I liked the look of the empty café, chair legs poking upwards.

I couldn’t even take a picture because my battery had died.