The people who don't want to be hard to please
are by far the hardest to please.
For instance, the lady who comes
into my shop - I call it my shop, but really
I just work there - when I am obviously reading
a magazine and she obviously does not
need anything. At least not from me.
I suspect she does not differentiate
between want and need.
Not much, anyway.
I am truly sorry
that the cookies I sell
seem a bit expensive.
Can I help you with something else?
Someone to talk to, perhaps?
Would you like to know who dressed poorly
at last week's awards ceremony?
Or how a little boy was cured of cancer
through prayers and community donations?
You seem a little lonely, that's all.
It happens to me, too, here with the magazines,
although I have at my fingertips
28 ways of erasing lines on my face
and the 100 most exciting vacation getaways,
not to mention technological advancements that
would make your head spin, at least until
next month's edition. I also have Lotto tickets
that will save our schools, Coca Cola
products and many exotic cigarettes.
But these cookies, I do not claim.
Maybe someone made them,
but it wasn't me. I don't even know
where they come from, these cookies
in which I have invested so little of myself.
Forget the price,
those cookies taste terrible,
like life after the magazines.
I only sell them to people
because my life is terrible.
