He had a theory…if you didn’t ask permission, many times you could push the limits. It was much easier to ask forgiveness.
A beautiful woman would get the best deal. The other one, the one with the stringy hair would pay full price. He had a theory…the beautiful woman would pay less now but might pay off later.
In the market of Tunisia he had lived on the edge with a family that needed less and worked hard. But he needed adventure and the golden shores called his name. A long journey from home to Greece then Spain and finally a market in the city where they could work and hide. The shore across the Atlantic was the dream he had sought. A brother waited with work and a place to live. They could get lost in a city in America. The brother said the people liked the hummus and tzatziki processed in the old pizza kitchen.
They worked night and day…eyes bulging from lack of sleep, nimble fingers cutting slicing and taking the money. If the law was watching they were careful.
They both jumped when the door bell rang. The IRS had come before so they knew how the law looked. A knowing smile crossed their faces. While their life was good here, they knew that this government was as ineffective against them as the one they left behind. Silence and unwillingness to be totally honest was their friend. All the money they had made was sent back to Africa. If they were deported they would go back home rich. If they were able to stay they would soon be rich here. But things were different here than they had expected. Going home was sounding better and better. They had finally found a place where a little money slipped under the table and the plea for forgiveness did not always work. But most of all, they had come to hate the beautiful women who were free to make better choices.
Inspired by the vendor at our market. Written for Three Word Wednesday
Theory, Bulge, Nimble (Sorry Tom changed it to bulge)