I ordered an iced espresso about an hour ago, when finally she brings over a lemonade and mutters something about being sorry for the wait.
Oh, I think, that's nice of them - a free lemonade because obviously some terrible disaster occurred in the kitchen that's caused all the espresso to explode.
"Free?" I need to confirm.
"No," she says. "You no order?"
No, me no order. Oh well.
A British guy, one of the only three other patrons in the cafe, comes over and claims it before things get any more confusing. "I ordered this an hour ago. I didn't think it was coming," he says.
I made my order again and wait. At any other cafe, this would be a terrifically frustrating experience. But here, I am content to wait as long as it takes. In fact, the longer the better. Because all the while, I am watching the most amazing situation unfold on the adjacent rooftop.
A tribe of monkeys has been slowly collecting on the roof. They tore down clothes that were drying on a clothesline, and started eating the buttons off of them.
Every so often, a monkey will jump the three or four feet and land on our terrace, and some kid will chase it away with a stick.
The monkeys' numbers grow and grow, when a surprised Japanese tourist pokes his head up from the stairs. He disappears and returns with a few friends and a large stick.
The three Japanese men slowly clear a path across the rooftop. A few monkeys try to hold their ground, but the man with the stick bangs it against the ground, and the monkey quickly flees.
They make it to the room on the other side of the roof, where their friends had apparently been held captive by the monkeys. Now there's about seven guys and one girl.
But the monkeys have reclaimed the roof, and taken the stairs. And this time they have the upper ground.
They slowly go back. One man is separated from the group for a few moments, and a monkey decides to challenge him. He charges the man and shrieks in his ear. The man quickly retreats to his group.
They see me watching them only a few meters away, and wave, and I tell them to keep it up, they're doing great.
But in the middle of the roof, they are completely surrounded, and the monkeys are not backing down. Neither the monkeys nor the humans want to get physical - it's a game of posturing and bluffs, and position. And the Japanese are not doing a very good job of feigning confidence and strength. I can't say I'd be any different surrounded by monkeys.
In the nick of time, an Indian guy from below rushes up the stairs, waving a huge stick, and yelling. The monkeys retreat a small distance. He starts throwing bricks at them, and the monkeys reluctantly leave.
My espresso arrives. It's disgusting and full of sugar. I can't even make myself drink it. I will never come back here again.
