Monday, September 23, 2013


     A few months after that I was transferred to San Diego. We did a lot of the ecumenical work, but, life being what it is, we still needed to sell roses on the weekends to pay our expenses. I was getting tired of having to do it time after time, and, one weekend, refused to go out. My team leader came back for me a little later and convinced me to try just one place.
     It was a Mexican Restaurant in Chula Vista. I think, I was the first person that they allowed to go around the tables peddling roses. This time, when I came in, there was just one booth occupied by a bunch of men. As I approached them, I didn't hope for much, but they were already tipsy and ready to exercise their manly bravado. 
- "Wait, what? What is this? Are you selling those?" 
     All that I was capable of at that moment was to wave a rose at them. 
- "How much?" The tequila on their breath almost blew me away, but I stood my ground: 
- "How much do you want to spend?" 
That amused them. 
- "How much for everything?" 
I quickly calculated the cost and told them. They had to haggle a little, otherwise there was no sport in it for them, then we agreed on the price. 
- "Shoot, we have to keep these roses somewhere! How much for a bucket?" 
     The bucket also sold (for an exorbitant amount of $ 30), I took my library book out of it and prepared to get out. 
- "Wait a minute, how much for your book?" 
     Why they wanted my book, I would never understand. If it wasn't a library one, I would've sold it to them, though. As it was, I kept the book, got a rose back as a present to me and a tip of $ 20. 
     As I came to the car, my mood was very different than the one before. My team leader napped in the driver's seat. He opened his eyes to see me rapping at the window with a rose. The whole way back home he had trouble keeping his jaw from dropping onto the steering wheel!

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