Michael makes his way down the stairs at exactly 8 am on Monday morning in his well-ironed designer suit, and smartly polished black shoes.

He comes across his parents having breakfast on the dining table in the dining room. He goes around to peck his mom and nods at his dad.

"Good morning, Mom. Hey, dad."

"Good morning, Michael. How was your night?"

His Mom responds.

"How are you, today son? Trust you are well prepared for work today."

Senator Akinseloyin briefly takes his eyes off the newspaper he's reading at the dining table to acknowledge his son's greetings.

"My night was good, Mom. I feel very great today, Dad, and I am very ready for work."

He buttons up his suit.

"In fact, I am set. I just came to say bye to you both."

His parents exchange a look and nod their approvals.

"Aren't you going to at least have breakfast before you go? I prepared porridge and milk."

His mother asks with a frown on her face.

"No Mom. I can't have porridge in the morning, it's too heavy. I would stop by on my way to work for a light breakfast. Just something to start off the day."

"Stop fussing over the boy, wife. He's a grown man, he can tell when he's hungry."

His Father chips in briefly.

Mrs. Akinseloyin nods in agreement.

"Okay. Just make sure you don't starve yourself."

"I won't, Mom. I will get myself sorted out." I better take my leave now. I don't want to be stuck in traffic."

He makes to leave.

The senator appraises his son intently.

"Where's your briefcase boy?"

"I put it in the car earlier. I wanted to make sure I don't forget anything."

"All good, son. Have a great day."

"Yeah, sure I will. Bye, Mom, bye Dad. I love you both."

He exits the house.

"We love you too, son".

They both call out after him.

Mrs. Akinseloyin smiles at her husband.

"I told you he was going to come around. Just look how eager he is to be at work."

"You did say it indeed. It just took him too long to. I sincerely hope he doesn't relapse."

"He won't, darling that much I can guarantee. He would surely make us proud."

"I hope so dear wife. We have the house to ourselves now, let's make the best use of it for a few hours before I head In to work."

He pushes his almost empty plate aside before folding the newspaper and putting it on the table.

She does the same and raises an eyebrow at her husband.

"Well, what do you have in mind? I am not quite ready to leave this place yet. I need to do the dishes."

He pushes his chair back and stands up.

"We would do the dishes together right after I do you."

He winks playfully at her.

"You wouldn't have to worry about the dishes if you hadn't refused help. The maids don't only have to clean, they can take care of the kitchen too."

"I don't want help, please. I can't take the chances of these desperate generation of young girls seducing my handsome husband, you know that talk about food being the way to a man's heart. Those girls can be quite destructive you know?"

He is now standing behind her chair where he leans forward to look into her eyes.

"So, you still think I am handsome?"

She blushes hotly.

"Not that handsome actually. You are starting to grow bald."

She chuckles as he pushes her seat backward, and helps her out of the chair.

"Woman, I would have you know that I am still as handsome and agile as I was when I wooed you over thirty years ago. It seems you need a constant reminder though."

"Oh really? I don't want you to complain of back pains later. I can be quite ruthless you know?"

"You underestimate me, dear wife. I plan to correct your misconception shortly."

They both giggle and make their way up the stairs into their bedroom where the door is shut with more force than is required.

Michael eases the car into the busy lot of the breakfast place he plans to get a takeout, and manages to find a space to park. It's Monday morning and activities are in full swing with numerous people rushing here and there to meet up with their individual schedule.

The breakfast place is crowded as people are in a hurry to grab a quick bite before heading to work. Michael is no exception to the lot, and he chose this particular place to have breakfast cause it's on the street to his father's company where he is expected to resume at 9 am.

He keeps checking the time wondering how long he's going to have to line up on the queue in front of him before it gets to his turn. He's even debating whether to leave, and eat during lunchtime, but the fear of his ulcer makes him stay. He knows how bad the ulcer can get if he doesn't eat on time.

Realizing the queue is not moving as fast as he would like, he yells at the waitress attending to the people in his queue. In all fairness to her, the waitress was trying her best, rushing back and forth to satisfy the customers, but some people's orders can be unreasonably long.

"Hey, there lady! Why are you so sluggish? Can't you see people are in a hurry to eat and get out of this dump without getting food poisoning?"

The waitress looks up from taking down someone's order and rests her eyes on Michael.

"I beg your pardon, Mister!"

Now visibly angry and hungry, his common sense deserts him.

"I am trying to figure out what sort of poor service you run in this place that leaves customers standing on their feet all day when they have got other places to be. As if that is not bad enough, you are leaving food exposed on the counter before serving. "Do you want people to die of food poisoning?"

He regards the waitress angrily and fumes.

The restaurant has now gone silent with people watching the ensuing drama. A few people recognize Michael as the son of a prominent senator and are already starting to whisper and gossip among themselves.

The waitress angrily drops her apron and glares furiously at him.

"Mister, it's quite rude of you to come into this place for the first time, and question our mode of operation. If you want to buy food here, you either wait your turn or leave. There are other people way ahead of you that are not complaining, and you come in here with your pompous self, criticizing what we do. People have been eating here for a while and we have never had a single case of food poisoning, and that's because we take our customers health seriously in regards to the neatness of our environment. Customers are always right, but I am willing to make an exception this time. You are arrogant and mannerless. Feel free to find another place to eat otherwise, wait your turn."

She points towards the door.

Michael is left speechless and dumbfounded. He has never been addressed this way by anyone before, and to think it's a mere waitress that's talking to him like a child. He swallows several times trying to think of a smart comeback.

"Do you know who I am? What gave you the guts and effrontery to talk to me like that? I promise I would have your job for this. I want to speak to your manager right this minute."

He shouts.

"I want to know who you are that makes you think you can just waltz in here, and talk to me anyhow."

A fellow waitress whispers something into her ear, and she widens her eyes.

"Oh! You are the son of senator Akinseloyin. So what? Last time I checked your father is the senator, not you. What makes you think you deserve special privileges? You want to see the manager, don't you? I would do you one better. You would speak to the owner."

He finds his voice after keeping mute for a few seconds, trying to regain his composure. He responds with false bravado.

"Yes, I would actually prefer to see the owner, and ask him or her how the staff can be allowed to talk to customers in this manner."

"No problem at all. I am the owner of this establishment. What do you have to say to me?"

She puts her hands at her sides in a defiant posture.

"You own this place?"

"Yes I do"

He blinks in shock but quickly recovers smoothly, finding his voice,

"No wonder there's a lack of organization here. Why should I be surprised at the poor service over here? With you as the owner, it's a wonder the place hasn't crashed already. Mark my words, the days of this eatery's operation are numbered."

She bursts out in laughter and regards him murderously.

"There is absolutely nothing you can do to me or my eatery. It's also no wonder you are riding on your father's status expecting special treatment. How mannerless can one person be? You are asking me if I know who you are. Very hilarious. You would never be addressed as anything more than the senator's son. It's your father's position, not yours. This eatery is mine and I don't have to ride on my father's name. No matter how small it is, the restaurant is still mine. What do you have apart from your father's name? I have had enough of this madness. Remove yourself from my eatery right now. You are preventing me from attending to serious people."

She points towards the door again.

He almost can't believe his ears. How dare this tiny lady speak to him in such a manner? He has never been asked to leave a room full of people in his entire life. It is so embarrassing. He picks up what is left of his dignity, and walks out with his head held high, but not before he makes a veiled threat at the waitress.

"You haven't seen the last of this matter. I assure you that you would hear from me very soon."

She is obviously not scared of him and waves his threat away. She hisses and continues taking orders of people in the queue in front of her. The restaurant resumes its business activity with customers rushing to have their orders taken.

He steps out and drives off to work in anger completely forgetting how hungry he is.

He gets to work and buries himself furiously in work, an effect of the words the waitress spoke to him. He vows to prove he can make a name for himself, and teach the tiny brat a lesson in the process. Riding on his father's name huh? We shall see.