Yesterday at the market I was buying pitta bread, and I witnessed the following conversation:
an elderly man wearing a beret, to the vendor in the Pitta and Bread stall: I dropped a Shekel coin in the gutter in front of you stall.
Vendor: what do you want me to do about it?
Man: I want 10 pittas and 5 bread rolls.
Vendor: That's 7 shekels.
Man: Ok, here's 6 shekels and there's one there in the gutter.
Vendor: I don't care about the one in the gutter.
Man: But how I can I take it out? take it, it's yours.
Vendor: I don't want it.
Man (turning to his wife, talking in North African arabic): he doesn't want it. What can I do?
Man, turning back to the vendor: here, take 6 shekels. There's another shekel in the gutter
Vendor: What are you paying for? 10 pittas and 5 bread rolls? that's 7 shekels.
Fearing I'll find myself locked in a time bubble of eternal recurrence, I pay for my pittas and quickly walk away.
posted by mink @ 6:03 AM
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