I had walked into a bakery unknown to me for half an Allinson. The girl behind the counter was an Ottoman princess with wavy black hair and sculpted eyebrows. She was guarded, at eye level, by two chocolate Easter bunnies closely resembling Martin Brozius, each carrying a large egg on their backs, like Atlas’s globe.
Next to me stood a woman of about 50 in a Nepalese cardigan made of coarse, multicolored wool. She had a cheerful, country face with ruddy cheeks and a turned-up nose. She ordered two apple slices. The girl said nothing back and looked a little difficult, but still put the apple slices in a cardboard box. “That’ll be 3.70.” she said.
The woman held her bank card against the device on the counter. “Oh dear!” she cried after a few seconds, startled. ‘No balance. That’s also something! And that on my birthday!’
The Easter bunnies laughed their stupid, jovial laugh. The girl looked grumpy. Here was my chance as a wild benefactor to buy (apple) karma points for a silly 3.70 euros, sweet indulgence from hell that undoubtedly awaits us.
“I’ll settle it,” I said to the girl. And to the woman: ‘Well, that can happen to the best, huh? You’re welcome, and happy birthday!’
The woman smiled with relief and said the things they say. “Oh, how sweet, I’m ashamed, stupid, I should have brought my other pass, well, thank you very much!” She took the box of cake from the counter, made a toasting motion with it in my direction, and walked out of the store.
I looked at the girl with a triumphant look of ‘that’s how civilized people solve it’, but she still couldn’t help but smile. She said, ‘Yes, that’s very nice of you, but I know that little trick of hers. She always does it when she has no money, then it is supposedly her birthday. She does it at the other stores too. And she’s not retarded, isn’t it, it’s always small amounts, then there’s always someone willing to pay for her.’
Well, how long ago was it that I made someone happy with 3.70 euros? “She does it at least about five times a year,” the girl said gloomily. ‘Do you know people who have birthdays that often? Not me.’
When I walked out with my half loaf of bread, I saw the woman energetically enter a liquor store. For someone of 250 years old, she actually still looked great.