Winning
Around the corner from me is a smoke shop. It's changed hands a few times in the last few years, but it's always cold in the summer and hot in the winter so nothing's really changed. It's a small shop that only manages to fit three people comfortably, four if we all politely maneuver our bodies.
A year ago a man from Ethiopia bought it and took over with his wife covering the counter whenever he wasn't there. She is beautiful. Her skin is the color of a dark latte, she wears braces on her white teeth and smiles like she is proud of their placement. Her eyes are dark like obsidian and they actually shine. I swear they do.
They had a baby 9 months ago on a Tuesday and he gave away free cigars the next week. I like him alot. He smiles just like his wife and speaks animatedly about basketball and soccer. During the world cup he began calling me Friend, after I called him that one day. We both wanted Italy to win but enjoyed the entire competition anyway. During the games I would go to his shop and stand and watch with him and we would yell for anything, good or bad.
It wasn't always this way though.
I used to go in and see him and he would say "What you want?" and I would tell him and he would throw it on the counter and tell me: "Four dollar fifty." I'd give him the money and he would say "See you" and wave his hand to scoot me out the door. I wasn't statisfied with that though. I wanted to know his name and his wife's name and I wanted to learn how to say "hello friend" in his language. See, I've always wanted to learn every language I could retain or at least hear and roll around my own mouth. Call it selfish, but the more stories I learn about people and their own lives, the more I grow. So I called him Friend everytime I saw him and asked him about futbol so much that he gave me The Smile.
I saw him this morning and he said "Hello Friend! Did you see the Brazil Argentina match?" I told him no I didn't know it was on but he promised to tell me the next time he sees one.
I asked after his wife and his new daughter and he told me to come to the shop sometime and say hello. It wasn't until I watched him cross the street to his shop that I realised I've never known his name. I guess it doesn't really matter though, I figure I'm still gonna call him Friend.
A year ago a man from Ethiopia bought it and took over with his wife covering the counter whenever he wasn't there. She is beautiful. Her skin is the color of a dark latte, she wears braces on her white teeth and smiles like she is proud of their placement. Her eyes are dark like obsidian and they actually shine. I swear they do.
They had a baby 9 months ago on a Tuesday and he gave away free cigars the next week. I like him alot. He smiles just like his wife and speaks animatedly about basketball and soccer. During the world cup he began calling me Friend, after I called him that one day. We both wanted Italy to win but enjoyed the entire competition anyway. During the games I would go to his shop and stand and watch with him and we would yell for anything, good or bad.
It wasn't always this way though.
I used to go in and see him and he would say "What you want?" and I would tell him and he would throw it on the counter and tell me: "Four dollar fifty." I'd give him the money and he would say "See you" and wave his hand to scoot me out the door. I wasn't statisfied with that though. I wanted to know his name and his wife's name and I wanted to learn how to say "hello friend" in his language. See, I've always wanted to learn every language I could retain or at least hear and roll around my own mouth. Call it selfish, but the more stories I learn about people and their own lives, the more I grow. So I called him Friend everytime I saw him and asked him about futbol so much that he gave me The Smile.
I saw him this morning and he said "Hello Friend! Did you see the Brazil Argentina match?" I told him no I didn't know it was on but he promised to tell me the next time he sees one.
I asked after his wife and his new daughter and he told me to come to the shop sometime and say hello. It wasn't until I watched him cross the street to his shop that I realised I've never known his name. I guess it doesn't really matter though, I figure I'm still gonna call him Friend.
posted by Shirina Grimaldi | 9/16/2006 05:20:00 PM
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6 comments
