Trip trips.

One lapse happened and it changed everything.

It’s my fave restaurant in all of Manila, the Momo Cafe. Whether I go there alone or with Jen, I make it a point to visit this best food place almost twice a week.

Why not? There’s a lot of things I cared about this eat-out place. First, the price may be hefty, yet it generously compensates for big serving sizes of food. Second, carte du jour is amazingly impressive like a lot of time and thinking were alloted to create such an international taste. Third, and more importantly, I have gained connection with its people at the feeling level, because of their astounding customer service and friendly care for diners.

A couple of weeks ago, Shaq the most handsome bartender, informed I and Jen about the upcoming closing of the restaurant as they will transfer to another distant location soon.

I was dismayingly surprised. I somehow could not accept the fact that business needs to thrive by changing strategy–by changing location. Shaq told us about the loss of  the restaurant (at least for this branch) and changing the address is the way to survive.

I still ate the food we ordered, but I hardly digested the news.

Now here’s the feeling when you get too attached to something like it’s already part of your life, and then, you consciously opted to lose it.

Last night, after my workout, I headed to the place, for a succulent chicken pesto sandwich and a sweet raspberry iced tea. There’s a lot of diners that night, unusual. But as I entered, I noticed some changes of the interior–both of restaurant’s and of the hearts’. Usual comfortable couches at the sides were replaced by hard stylish plastic chairs and there was no single greeting or smile I usually received.

I really tried to reason out like, “Ah, they’re already starting to move things out now,” or “The heck, they are just as busy as never before,”–until I ordered and waited.

Ten minutes passed and the sandwich was still not on my table. I sipped the iced tea. I looked around and no one’s enjoying their time anymore. Everyone seemed so occupied now.

Additional ten minutes passed, I could hardly wait for the sandwich. I looked around and saw the manager and the cook talking (I thought) about my sandwich. No explanation, they just let me waited. Everyone seemed so vile now.

Additional five minute passed, and I passed. I cancelled my order just before they landed the sandwich on my table.

As a customer, I can hate them all. I no longer care for the generous serving sizes of food, or their internationally impressive menu, or their astounding customer service. I opted to hate them all.

Yet it saddened me. My heart is crushing knowing that I chose to change the way I look at the place and the people I love just because they’ll soon be gone.

I changed everything for that one lapse to happen.