At about this time one of the waiters looking a tad surly, approaches you table, says Mr Johnson will see you now and walks back around the paper partition between the front and back of the tea house.
The back room is, to the untrained eye, roughly the same as the front. Soothing lighting, comfortable seating, a series of hanging lamps and a small water feature. To those who know its almost extravagant. Real wood, cloth mats, the water is clear and almost inviting.
Nestled at the head of the single table is Mr Johnson. He's a vaguely asain elf, so very at home in the setting that he seems to be the centerpiece of a perfect arrangement. He smiles warmly and gestures for everyone to sit as they enter.