Sold a “Cheesesteak” to a pleasant, back pack toting young fellow in yellow rain slicker. He is of Syrian ancestry and has a PhD in agricultural economics.
And I “sold” an IWKYA to a young woman from Korea (white sweater, black slacks), who is a research assistant in psychiatry. This transaction is in quotes since she didn’t have cash but I gave her the book in exchange for her promise to leave money with the barista. So far he received any, and though there are two Asian young women in the café this morning, neither has shown any sign of recognizing me, and I realize I am not certain I could pick my customer out of a line-up anyway.
But I maintain faith my trust will be rewarded.
In other news…
1.) An elderly semi-regular woman, who had never previously spoken with me, looked over my books and said she had a photograph I must see. What she produced – after going home for it – was not a photograph but a photocopy of what looked like a Daumier drawing of a perhaps alcoholic gentleman with a cup in one hand. The caption, in both French and German, seemed to entitle it “The Coffee Drinker” and depict a member of the lower depths who needed its daily dose for his digestion and would have it even if he could not afford to eat. (What then, I wondered, would he have to digest?)
I didn’t see that this drawing had anything to do with me, but it did remind me of a story which, since I am short of content, I will repeat here, even though I didn’t bother telling it to the elderly, semi-regular woman. When Adele worked for Mr.Peet in his first store– yes, that Mr. Peet – he confided that the reason he had opened his business was that in hard economic times, whether depression or recession, the last luxury people would give up would be coffee.
From that acorn…
So many Bob Levins on the Internet; I'm the Bob Levin who writes.