it was rush hour

and when i saw the pink papier toilette i couldn't not bring out the iphone. so here were all these bleary well-dressed folk waiting in line at the sweetest minimart i may ever see, and tiny cardiganed ladies with sparse white hair asking me questions [in french. what aisle the peas are in? the time does the next train leave? i could almost decipher what they said, but found myself wide-eyed sputtering (in english) "i don't speak english." by which i meant french.] anyhow, the ladies were asking me where the peas were and then i was trying to unobtrusively take pictures and not bother the women in good shoes and men in good suits who just got off the train who just wanted to go home with their bottle of nice wine and i really just went in for water and maybe some cheese. and a small bag of almonds, maybe. but i fell in love with the way the shelves were so well-cared for, and with the bright happiness that somehow seemed to shoot from the soft-drink displays. i left with a tangy ball of chevre, wafery crackers, six bottles of water, no almonds, a smile. and i am strangely glad to remember the quick way the market seemed to cheer everyone a up bit and it didn't matter if it was paper or peas they were after.

No comments:

Post a Comment