My husband's a Grumpy

73. Dinner Ala Darling Galak

As long as there's a Galak Sweetheart, Meta will like it?

It seems like that sentence is no match for the expression on Meta's face right now. His mouth was open because he was not finished. His body froze, unable even to lift the small corner of his lips on his face.

“What do you want to order a drink? Ice tea or ice degan?” ask Galak.

Although his neck felt stiff, Meta tried hard to move it so that his face faced Galak. “We will actually eat here, Darling Galak?” ask Meta still doesn't want to believe it.

“If not, why are we sitting on this bench?”

Meta lowered his gaze. Ah, crap! Sitting on this bench was his biggest regret!

“It's, right, it's late. We'll just have to eat, already, so dinner. Although not a chair, our bench is face to face. Continue ... oh, yes, wax—“

I can't look back, towards the shop that was perched there. He also raised his hand. “Pak!” call him to the old man who had just sat on a box seat next to the door, “ask for the candle!”

After hearing Galak's cry, the old man finally got up and entered the shop.

It grimaced as if it had no regrets. “Tuh, right, it's dinner,“ he said.

“But not in the roadside stalls too, Dear Galak,” whine Meta.

“People, right, dinner,” timpal Galak.

“But not elite at all, not kayaking in dramas, not kayaking Meta lakin same Gana,” elak Meta.

Erratically looked. Apparently the old man was already standing behind him with a white candle. Erratic took out a piece of red money from his wallet, then handed it to the old man.

“No change, sir,” said the man.

“In that case, I buy all candles, Sir,” is obviously Galak.

The old man went into his shop.

“If so, there, dinner is the same Gana. Most of the beautiful women who want to smile I am still not extinct,” Galak insinuated.

Meta breathed his heavy breath. If Galak had said that, what could he have done but give up?

“Ya, already. Meta is satisfied with the same origin Dear Galak, deh,” said Meta with his voice that sounded lethargic.

“The dosage is three equal servings of ice two cups,” replied Error.

Meta watched the woman who had not lowered her smile when she saw Galak.

“Mbak-mbak, don't smile, dong. This is my husband,” forbid Meta to feel jealous.

“I'm just being friendly, Ma'am,” timpal that woman.

“But yes not smiling like that.”

Both of the women's hands clenched tightly. When he turned around, his smile broke, he even gritted his teeth. He rushed to his mother who was standing in front of the cart.

“What's up, Son?” ask the mother.

“The customer is really complicated, anyway, Mom. Not smiling he said indifferently, but smiling thought oddly,” dumel the woman.

“Again, if there is something like that, ready for hot water,” the mother's advice.

The woman was silent. It seems his mother's advice has a point.

The old man was standing next to Galak. “This is the light, sir,” he said as he thrust five boxes full of candles.

“Still, Sir,” said Galak while receiving the five candle boxes.

The man also left.

Error pushing the five candle boxes towards Meta. “Tuh, if you want to dinner just put a candle on the dining table,” he said.

Meta turned his face away while snorting in annoyance.

The girl of the seller's daughter returned with a large tray containing three bowls of meatballs and two glasses of ice. He moved the contents of the tray full of caution until he did not have time to smile.

“Mbak is angry with me. Don't judge-judes dong, Ma'am,” Meta quipped.

The woman who was moving the bowl of meatballs stopped her movement. He threw a glance as sharp as a skewer towards Meta. “This if thrown hot, you know, Mbak,” said the woman with an intimidating tone.

Now Meta even frowns innocently.