how far we’ve come

this morning the pony and i went to a bakery to eat pastries. we try to get together and eat sugar-based products as often as we can, to keep it real.

when the pony asked for a red velvet cupcake, the bakery’s owner, who is some variety of european to judge by her accent, said she had two velvet cupcakes. the pony said, “i’ll have one.” the owner said, “two?” the pony replied, “one.” the owner rejoined, “two?” patiently and politely, the pony said, “one.”

this reminded me of when i was a young ‘un and did the grocery every day for the whole family. it was around the end of the 19th century and we did daily grocery shopping. it took a sizeable chunk of the day because there were many shops to visit: the bread and egg shop, the meat shop, the cheese shop, the veggie shop, the newspaper shop, the tobacconist shop, etc. you did it all on foot. that was just the way it worked. i didn’t particularly like it. by the end the bags were heavy and i was tired. (it was also cold and snowy, and we had wooden shoes and threadbare hoseries: but that’s for another post).

the worst was the cheese place. the cheese guy would always give me as least 50% more cheese or cold cuts than i asked for. if i asked for 1 hg, he’d give me 1.5 hg. if i asked for 2 hg, he’d give me 3. it was very painful for me, because i didn’t know how to stop him. when i joined the line i’d rehearse what to say to him: “and i mean 1 hg!” or, “did you get that i said just 1 hg?” but it never did any good. it only made me feel anxious and defeated.

while i was in line i checked if he did the same to the other people, older, maturer women, grown-up women, but i don’t remember it now. what i know is that no-one said any of the things i did. maybe the women accepted the extra stuff, or maybe they asked for 2/3 of what they really wanted and ended up satisfied. i would never have done this myself because i hadn’t yet learned The Practical Approach to Life and was practicing instead The True and Just Approach to Life. let me tell you before you read any further: the True and Just Approach to Life must be practiced very seldom and for a very, very good reason. if you are in any doubt whatsoever, go for the Practical Approach to Life with a clear and light conscience.

when i asked for cold cuts i’d keep a keen eye on the scales and shout “enough!” the moment the scales reached the amount i wanted. the cheese man would continue unfazedly to pile slices till he added another 50%. my fury knew no bounds.

when i think of it now, i wonder why i didn’t just hand him back the rolled package, tell him to take 1/3 off. at the time, it seemed unthinkable. the package was wrapped and sealed, the price scribbled on. it was over. i had lost my round.

here is something i’m proud of, though. one day, when she was still doing the grocery shopping herself, my grandmother came home furious because the fish monger had sold her fish other than the one she had requested. seeing my grandmother so upset gave me the courage i later failed to find for myself. i went out into the street as i was (no coat) and marched to the fish monger. there was a fair crowd at his truck. i elbowed my way to the front and said with a big and indignant voice, “you cheated my grandmother! shame on you, cheating on an elderly woman! i want all these people to know that you are a grandmother cheater. shame on you!”

everyone was very quiet. the fish monger was very quiet. i turned on my heels and marched back home. it was a fine moment.

this morning, when the baker pretended not to understand that the pony had asked for only one cup cake, i felt bad for her. this is america, i wanted to say. this is america.