Just around the corner from my office, there's a sandwich shop where all baguettes unsold by 3:30 in the afternoon are reduced to one pound. As someone who regularly has a late breakfast and a run at lunchtime, this arrangement suits me perfectly because I can head down after a shower and grab one (or two) still-fresh sandwiches at less than half price. There have been very few occasions when I've reached there around that time and the 'All Baguettes 1 Pound' sign hasn't been in the window. This might be because they've either sold out already, or the owner is optimistically holding out for a few more full-price sales. (In case you're wondering- in case it's the latter, I happily pay- if only to avoid bad baguette karma. It's the worst.)
Overall though, this seemed to be good example of something capitalism got right- the owner sells out his stock, (hopefully) makes a decent profit, I enjoy an exceedingly cheap (and relatively healthy) lunch; everybody's happy. For a few weeks everything was great, until I noticed other people had caught on, and one man in particular I started to come across on a regular basis. Probably in his mid-forties, he was always smartly dressed, and always came in soon after the sign appeared. The first couple of times, I thought he might be passing by; probably picking up some spares for a late meeting in his office. It soon became clear though - this was no drifter or chancer. His visits had gone past the point of regular and become routine.
While I didn't mind at first, I couldn't help but get a little annoyed as time went on. It wasn't really because he was buying up the lot, because there would always be a couple more left, but because he seemed to be picking up all the baguettes with the best fillings, and regularly buying three. Three?! What kind of person eats three baguettes at three-thirty? He was always unfailingly polite to the owner, and a couple of times when I stood behind him in the queue, he turned around and smiled at me before he walked out. Despite my best attempts, he was generally hard to dislike, which annoyed me even more.
The more I saw him, the more I fed the annoyance, and the stronger it grew. Until two days ago, when it finally disappeared once and for all. While I normally walk down the street in the same direction as that man, I don't usually look up from my newly-bought baguette. On Tuesday, I did look up. And looked straight at him. I watched as he crossed over to the other side of the road, and handed his three baguettes to three homeless people huddled together on a stone bench.
Maybe the lesson is to look up more, look down on people less. There's almost always more than what meets the eye, isn't there? I guess I still have so much more to learn.
As for Baguette Man, he's my new hero. Batman isn't half as cool.
Overall though, this seemed to be good example of something capitalism got right- the owner sells out his stock, (hopefully) makes a decent profit, I enjoy an exceedingly cheap (and relatively healthy) lunch; everybody's happy. For a few weeks everything was great, until I noticed other people had caught on, and one man in particular I started to come across on a regular basis. Probably in his mid-forties, he was always smartly dressed, and always came in soon after the sign appeared. The first couple of times, I thought he might be passing by; probably picking up some spares for a late meeting in his office. It soon became clear though - this was no drifter or chancer. His visits had gone past the point of regular and become routine.
While I didn't mind at first, I couldn't help but get a little annoyed as time went on. It wasn't really because he was buying up the lot, because there would always be a couple more left, but because he seemed to be picking up all the baguettes with the best fillings, and regularly buying three. Three?! What kind of person eats three baguettes at three-thirty? He was always unfailingly polite to the owner, and a couple of times when I stood behind him in the queue, he turned around and smiled at me before he walked out. Despite my best attempts, he was generally hard to dislike, which annoyed me even more.
The more I saw him, the more I fed the annoyance, and the stronger it grew. Until two days ago, when it finally disappeared once and for all. While I normally walk down the street in the same direction as that man, I don't usually look up from my newly-bought baguette. On Tuesday, I did look up. And looked straight at him. I watched as he crossed over to the other side of the road, and handed his three baguettes to three homeless people huddled together on a stone bench.
Maybe the lesson is to look up more, look down on people less. There's almost always more than what meets the eye, isn't there? I guess I still have so much more to learn.
As for Baguette Man, he's my new hero. Batman isn't half as cool.
1 comment:
If I were homeless, you'd buy me a baguette right? You can be my HERO!
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