Death of the Flower Girl

She comes towards the table, smiling, just-brushed hair and party frock, a wicker basket of red red roses clutched closely.

By the Saints, its the roving restaurant Flower Girl and she is about to dampen the next few moments of your evening. You might be in the middle of declaring undying love or a bitter argument, a punchline of the worlds best joke, the crucial stage of an invention. But that all becomes secondary as your new reality fills with roses, roses with LEDS flashing, Roses with teddies hugging their stems, roses off the cover of a Mills and Boon book (The Pregnant and Surgically Enhanced Mistress of the Gentle Arms Dealer Billionaire From Steamy Sorrento).

She's telling you that its for charity, that the proceeds of your purchase will go towards a child or animal or hospital for dolphins. The rose will cost you R30. Her face is a thin skin mask and there is something horned, fanged, primeval and writhing beneath it. Your freshly baked bread roll that's just soaked up the grassy olive oil feels like sour asphalt in your throat. The bill, a tip, parking, petrol and now this.

Is there a happy ending? Maybe not tonight- you sent her off like a leper, bought a rose or took the in-between chicken road and gave her 5 bucks for the baby dolphins.

Restaurants take heed: you don't let insurance and medical aid companies rove your shop looking for business; defend your patrons from the girl bearing flowers.

Nap @ New Cape Quarter

The sandwich board outside the shop that sells furniture and light fittings says "Snack, Eats, drinks etc." Is it too much to hope that they are all for free? For me to enjoy whilst looking at a piece of prettily arranged gnarled root.

It was too much to expect but the place was away from the restaurant and coffee shop killing zone and felt a lot more relaxing.

Here I am then, on a Nap sort of rustic scaffolding plank bench with a prices tag of R895 on a shaded terrace. I've got a view of Signal Hill, a rich fruity muffin (R20) and a strong americano (R15) and I've just seen one of the centre's cleaners drop her cell phone into her bucket of floor washing water. It still worked when she fished it out. Bubbles came out of the speaker when she got an sms. I said that's what you'd expect of a Nokia, built tough. She said it was a Samsung.

Stay at the New Cape Quarter and experience your own twists-in-the-tale and intrigue around De Waterkant. Have a look at our accommodation at www.rentalscapetown.com