TheFictionShelf.com PRESENTS Ignorance is Bliss ------------------ by Neil Clark http://thefictionshelf.com/work/6 You may distribute this document in complete and unmodified form. For full terms and conditions see http://thefictionshelf.com/tncs. © 2011 Neil Clark -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I can still recall the very first time we laid eyes on The Pelican Man. Of course, at that point in time, he was just a man. The Pelican Man had not yet emerged from within, and there was no sign that this mere mortal standing before us would soon go on to provide us with hours of excitement and childlike glee over the coming weeks. Everything was about to change in the softest flick of a man’s tongue. Taking Flight ------------- It was half past four on a Saturday afternoon. Around the time when that perpetual flow of afternoon customers finally begins to let up and I start to feel like a person again, rather than some minimum wage guzzling robot. I can finally relax and breathe, and maybe share a laugh and a joke with myself while I wipe down some of the work surfaces. When The Pelican Man came in, Holly had just gotten back from her tea break, and the two of us were hovering behind the counter in giddy moods, away with the fairies on some conversational tangent or other. The reason I can recall him (before he became The Pelican Man) was that he was a nice customer. I always remember nice customers. The ones who smile as they approach you, and always greet you before you get the chance to greet them first. He was probably just the right side of middle‐aged, but he dressed younger – all bright colours, shiny accessories and snazzy footwear. And he had a vibrant demeanour about him – one which suggested he was still on one of life’s highs, maybe from some business venture that had just paid off, or maybe some absolute topper of a practical joke he’d just played on one of his mates… “Hi there! How are you?” he asked. “Oh, you know…” I replied, reflecting his smile back at him. “Same shit, different day. So what can I get you mate?” “I’ll have a skinny latte… and I fancy something to eat as well…” he scanned the selection of baked goods next to the counter, all neatly labelled and priced, and pointed to his choice “Ooh, that looks good” he said. “I’ll take a slice of your pelican pie please.” I took a double take of the item he was pointing to, and then of his face, which bore a chirpy expression, but not a jokey one. The guy was definitely not on the wind‐up. It was worth a snigger to myself – I’d never heard that one before. No point in correcting the poor bastard though. He’d probably take it in good humour, right enough, but I was definitely the better man just to let it go. I finished the transaction, and afterwards turned to give Holly a frown and a cheeky grin. She simply shrugged her shoulders, shook her head and grinned back. * At half past four the next Saturday, I recognised The Pelican Man as soon as he walked through the door and smiled at me. ‘It’s that nice customer from the week before.’ I thought. ‘We had some funny conversation or something…’ “Hi mate! How ya doin’?” he said, in that familiar chipper manner. “I’ll have a skinny latte and a slice of your pelican pie please!” ‘Oh yeah, that was it!’ I thought. How could I forget?! “Sure thing mate.” I said, feeling the corners of my mouth twitching on the edge of laughter, like two mischievous children in school assembly – “So how are you this week?” “Outstanding thanks! Bit rough today though. Hopefully this’ll soften the blow a bit!” Once I’d finished serving him, I went through the back to find Holly – “Remember that guy from last week who asked for the pelican pie? He’s back, and he did it again!” “No way! Do you not think you should tell him next time?” “This is the moral dilemma with which I am faced. Sleep will be fretted away tonight, I just know it…” “Oh really? Isn’t GETTING A LIFE more of a dilemma for you?” “The customers are my life, Holly. They’re all I have in this cruel, cruel world…” “That’s really beautiful man. Go me deep, you know?” “I do know. I really really do, you know?” “I do, you know?” “I do.” * Saturday, quarter to five. I stood and watched The Pelican Man perched in his seat at the back of the shop, sipping the remains of his latte having been finished with the contents of his plate for a while. Like many of our regulars, he was settling into a routine. He’d come in, ask for – in these exact words – “A skinny latte and a slice of your pelican pie (please)”, hit me with a middling level of small talk, and then take a seat and stare at his laptop while consuming his purchases. As he was leaving this week, he stopped for a bit of extra chat, about my favourite subject of his – “I’ll tell you what, mate. Compliments to the chef on those pelican pies… they’re absolute dynamite!” “Good aren’t they – I’ll tell the manager when I see him next. Enjoy the rest of your weekend!” “Forget management!” chimed Holly once The Pelican Man had gone through the door – “You should phone head office! Phone them right now, and tell them how one of our customers thinks that the pelican pies are dynamite. I dare ya!” With that, Holly and I crumbled into a fit of giggles that lingered on for the rest of the shift. * “I’ll have a skinny latte and a slice of your pelican pie please!” For the first time, Holly timed it so that she had the privilege of serving The Pelican Man. But the girl’s usual talkative nature with customers had been muted, with her lips pressed tightly together like the seal of a pressure cooker. She was reduced to a series of muffled nods and grunts, interspersed by a couple of feigned coughing or sneezing fits. I clocked The Pelican Man’s face as he took his items and turned away from the counter, and I feared that it was the last time I would see him. * Half past four. Holly let out a playful yelp‐come‐giggle as I barged past her to get to the counter first – “Hiya! How ya doin’?” I said, maybe a little too excitedly. “Very good, pal. Very good. Yourself?” “Never better. So what can I get you?” “Just the usual, thanks.” I paused for two seconds. I had to think on my feet in order to get my fix – “Sorry… I’m having a complete blank here… it’s a skinny latte and…” – it had been weeks since I’d last served him, so I figured I could just about get away with it. “I know the feeling mate… It’s a skinny latte and a slice of your pelican pie.” “Of course it is! Coming right up…” Once The Pelican Man had taken his seat, I felt a firm slap on one of my arse cheeks – “‘Having a complete blank’… nicely done.” said Holly. “Thanks. I was just thinking… do you ever wonder what he’s doing on that computer of his?” “Em… I like to think that he’s writing a hundred thousand word expose on the shocking use of endangered bird species in the baked goods of international coffee house chains.” “I didn’t know that pelicans were endangered?” “Well… they will be soon, if our friend keeps machining through them at the current rate…” Back Down to Earth… ------------------- Obviously I was pleased about Holly landing her new job, but the place was awfully dull without her. Life ticks on though. It was the first week of the school holidays, so the place was rammed, and half past four had crept up unnoticed to provide a welcome checkpoint to the day. “How’s it going mate!? Pretty hectic in these parts! I’ll have a skinny latte and a slice of your pelican pie please!” With a nostalgic smile, I handed The Pelican Man his change and looked up to the customer behind him. “Hello. Seeing as you seem to serve pelican pies, I’ll have a cup of toucan tea, and an albatross sandwich please!” Friends, they come and go… …With a Kick in the Nuts ------------------------ “See if one more yuppy cunt asks me for something skinny, I’ll put my skinny fucking fingers up their fucking eye sockets!” I liked Holly’s replacement, Hunter, but it didn’t half take me a couple of shifts to get there. He was fine once I realised that there was no mincing of words where he was concerned – a spade was a spade, a cunt was a cunt, and, as I’d been told repeatedly, a hot beverage with skimmed milk was no such thing as ‘skinny’. As is always the case when you’re working with someone new, the daily routine gets forgotten about a bit, and once again half past four came from nowhere. “Alright mate, you’re new! I’ll have a skinny latte and a slice of your pelican pie please!” I was wiping down a table, just about within an ear shot of the counter. The blood in my head went all skinny. “Eh? A slice of what?” The Pelican Man pointed to the counter – “Ha, I remember what it’s like being new to a place. It took me ages to remember everything at my work as well. That one there – the pelican pie.” “Yes, I can see what you’re pointing to, buddy. But there’s no such thing as a pelican pie.” From where I was standing, I could only see the back of The Pelican Man’s head. In my mind he was being caught in a net, wings flapping in panic, and no escape – no reply. “You mean a pecan pie? After the pecan nut? No pelicans in that, mate.” The Pelican Man walked past me with his latte in one hand and his newly christened pecan pie in the other, and with a confounded, colourless expression much like that of a child who’d just been informed that shepherd’s pie does not contain a single shepherd, or that fish in fact do not have fingers. He walked straight past the vacant table that I had just cleared, and sat as far away from the counter as he could, choosing to stare into space, rather than his usual laptop. I never served another slice of pelican pie again, but whenever anyone asked for a slice of pecan pie, I was reminded of the lessons I’d learned from my time with The Pelican Man – that knowledge is power, ignorance is bliss, and anything in between is just pie in the sky. THE END