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| Dr. Hungry |
Dr. Hungry is an intimidating café to enter because even when the wooden door is open, the entrance is covered by a curtain and there are never any people sitting outside. You assume it is a restaurant, but people hunger for many things; food is only one of them.
However, the interior is clean and there is a poster on each of the walls facing you. On the left: a poster with labeled photos of Lil’Wayne, Akon, T Pain and 50 Cent. On the right: a poster with portraits of Avril, Jennifer Lopez, Britney and Shakira. On the back wall the poster is peeling off, so all you see is some footballer’s feet.
The shelf on the back holds: a lantern, four empty vinegar bottles lying on their sides, a flashlight, a tin of NesCafe and a tin of Ovaltine. The front table holds: three thermoses of hot water, two full vinegar bottles (one filled with red vinegar, the other with cloudy yellow oil) and a stack of empty egg-carton trays beneath one tray with a few eggs.
The café is mostly empty (it is you, an old woman who compliments your Pulaar, and Dr. Hungry); maybe everyone is at church. It is Sunday, and you arrived at the market by getting a ride with a pick-up truck that stops outside St. Joseph’s Catholic Church. The sign says “Sun. Service starts at 9;” your watch says 8:40. So despite being not-Catholic, you feel a little bad when you turn the other way and duck into the alley where Dr. Hungry is located.
“I would like bread and egg.”
“We only have hard-boiled egg, not omelet.”
“Yes, I don’t like omelet.”
So you finish your hard-boiled egg sandwich and head off for not-church.
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