Never try never know

* This story has been sitting in my drafts box for a long time. It doesn't reflect the state of my life now.

Steph and I wake up to the scent of dew and flowers. The sun's halfway through its passage but it feels like morning's just dawned. I look at the clock. It's 1 p.m.

"Um, babe," I ask. "What time do they stop serving breakfast again?"

"Twelve."

"Shit."

I expected Steph to show a little more concern, like the type you show when you lose your wallet, or when you're in the middle of nowhere at night and the car won't start, but all she does is shrug.

"Let's get ready, we might still make it," she says. 

I object with fervour, which in reality is sulking with a little whine.

 "Just change and let's go. C'mon!"

"Fine." 

I grunt and roll out of bed. It's a stupid idea. I've been in the service industry and have been on the receiving end of silly requests. Stuff like slotting a 4 hour appointment 10 minutes before closing time, or asking for a 50% discount just because. I have a very special place for these people. I cast them under the group: 'people with shallow reservoirs for common sense'.

I make a big fuss out of this whole ordeal and I make sure Steph knows that "No one asks for breakfast during lunchtime", but I figure that food is scarce up here, and the breakfast is worth triple digits in ringgits so why not?

It takes us 15 minutes to get ready and we run down to the restaurant only to find the remaining breakfast stragglers up to the dregs of their tea. The kitchen's gearing up for lunch and the breakfast menus have already been replaced with their midday counterparts. The waiter comes over. I feel silly already.

"I feel silly," I whisper to Steph.

"Shh, ask him."

"This um... I feel silly but... we missed our breakfast. Woke up late. Yeah. Um... can we have breakfast?"

My cheeks feel warm. I look at the waiter and wonder if he's casting me into a group. To my surprise, he doesn't even bat an eyelid.

"Sure, sir," I can't make out if his stolidness is benevolent or if he's secretly wishing for my death. "Have a seat while I get the breakfast menus."

One on hand, I'm glad it was a success. On the other, I wish the waiter didn't accommodate us because I'm pretty sure Steph is thinking of seven different ways to say she told me so.

 "I told you—"

"Shut up."

Steph laughs.

As I eat my poached eggs, beef sausage, bacon, beans, cereal, toast, muffin, and coffee in silent defeat, Steph takes my hand and smiles. I smile back. She operates on a different set of rules as I do, and I always assume that if it's not my way, it's not the right way. And she proves me wrong—a lot.

As we finish our breakfast and take a walk in their garden, I start thinking about how many things we pass up just because of the limits we bind ourselves with. Our life experiences help us grow but it prevents us from taking action through fear, but it doesn't make sense to eschew fire—the greatest invention of man—just because we've been burned, right?

Also, I start thinking about how the world is more than what we can sense. Our five senses try to paint a picture of the world for us, but there are so many things beyond our five sense and we'll never be able to understand them because we're just not made that way.

Imagine seeing with your ears or tongue. Imagine having sight that extends for miles or being able to perceive beyond the spectrum of light. Imagine super-hearing or keen sense of smell. There are creatures that perceive life this way, but to us, this is our reality, and if it's not our way, then it's the wrong way. It's weird how we share this world with so many other forms of life, and we each have our own perspective on what reality is. Then I come to the question: What is reality?

So many possibilities, so many angles, damn near unanswerable. Beautiful.

Before I know it, it's the next day, and we wake up at 1 p.m. again.

"Let's go!" I say, one hand holding onto my jeans and the other brushing my teeth. "We're gonna be late for checkout!"

Steph's eyes are half open. She's still in bed. "I don't waaaannaaaaa..." she says.

"Wake up or they're gonna charge us for overstaying."

"No they won't."

"Yes they will."

"No, they won't. Come back to bed."

I do, and we leave at 2.

As we lug our bags to the counter, I nudge Steph over.

"Your turn."

"Hi!" she says. "I'm sorry we woke up late. We'd like to checkout please."

Steph smiles. The receptionist smiles. I wonder if we're being cast into any group of misfits. 

We check out without extra surcharges.

Never try, never know.