The story of how the fruit guy saved Christmas
Once upon a time, there were two young Americans living in Germany. Their names were Lily and Nathan. Because it was almost Christmastime, Nathan took a train from his city, Göttingen, to spend the holiday with Lily in Berlin. He arrived on a Saturday night, three days before Christmas. Lily was very happy to see him and the next day they made lots of tasty things to eat to celebrate, using up all the food reserves that Lily had in her house. Like good young Americans, they had faith in capitalism and went to bed on Sunday night with no fear, planning to go grocery shopping in the morning.
But alas! They learned the following day, to their dismay, that German grocery stores do not uphold the glorious tenets of capitalism, and remain closed on Christmas Eve! There was no last minute shopping to be had, and no food in the house. What to do? They were stumped. They wandered about the city, peering forlornly into the darkened windows of supermarkets and fast food kiosks, the tantalizingly unprocurable food just visible.
"I have an idea," said Lily. "Let's go see if the mall is open. There's a grocery store on the bottom floor." Buoyed by hope, the two took the very next S1 to Rathaus Steglitz. While walking out of the train station, they discovered a produce market still open, but they decided to check the mall first. In stark contrast to all an American would expect, even the inviting revolving doors of Das Schloss mall were closed up tight, not a soul to be seen. Discouraged, Lily and Nathan turned back toward the train station, stopping only briefly to buy bagels and croissants from a Balzac Coffee ten minutes before it closed; but by the time they returned to the produce market, it was closed and cold as well.
Time for a Plan C. But our heroes didn't lose their spirits until arriving at the Hauptbahnhof, oasis of overpriced fast food and beacon of light for foreigners in the dark room that is Germany's customs, to find everything deserted. The only open store turned them back, saying that they had already turned off their cash register and could not even sell a loaf of bread. "Yeah," said Nathan, "looks like we're shit outta luck."
Suddenly they touched on a desperate possiblity. With all haste they took a regional train back to Wannsee station, hoping against hope that their streak of bad luck would break and the fruit guy under the platforms would still be there, vending fruit for all comers. And he was! Oh, he was. They picked their oranges and apples with care, decided to live dangerously and get a cucumber and a pear, even were able to buy milk from the wonderful and generous fruit guy of Wannsee. Leaving the train station heavily laden with plastic bags, Lily and Nathan smiled at each other, knowing their luck had changed. They proceeded to get a bus to the nearest gas station, and after a trip to the food mart, returned home bearing (in addition to the rich fare provided by the Wannsee fruit guy) bread, butter, and a five-euro bottle of pink wine.
Thanks, fruit guy! You saved Christmas!
But alas! They learned the following day, to their dismay, that German grocery stores do not uphold the glorious tenets of capitalism, and remain closed on Christmas Eve! There was no last minute shopping to be had, and no food in the house. What to do? They were stumped. They wandered about the city, peering forlornly into the darkened windows of supermarkets and fast food kiosks, the tantalizingly unprocurable food just visible.
"I have an idea," said Lily. "Let's go see if the mall is open. There's a grocery store on the bottom floor." Buoyed by hope, the two took the very next S1 to Rathaus Steglitz. While walking out of the train station, they discovered a produce market still open, but they decided to check the mall first. In stark contrast to all an American would expect, even the inviting revolving doors of Das Schloss mall were closed up tight, not a soul to be seen. Discouraged, Lily and Nathan turned back toward the train station, stopping only briefly to buy bagels and croissants from a Balzac Coffee ten minutes before it closed; but by the time they returned to the produce market, it was closed and cold as well.
Time for a Plan C. But our heroes didn't lose their spirits until arriving at the Hauptbahnhof, oasis of overpriced fast food and beacon of light for foreigners in the dark room that is Germany's customs, to find everything deserted. The only open store turned them back, saying that they had already turned off their cash register and could not even sell a loaf of bread. "Yeah," said Nathan, "looks like we're shit outta luck."
Suddenly they touched on a desperate possiblity. With all haste they took a regional train back to Wannsee station, hoping against hope that their streak of bad luck would break and the fruit guy under the platforms would still be there, vending fruit for all comers. And he was! Oh, he was. They picked their oranges and apples with care, decided to live dangerously and get a cucumber and a pear, even were able to buy milk from the wonderful and generous fruit guy of Wannsee. Leaving the train station heavily laden with plastic bags, Lily and Nathan smiled at each other, knowing their luck had changed. They proceeded to get a bus to the nearest gas station, and after a trip to the food mart, returned home bearing (in addition to the rich fare provided by the Wannsee fruit guy) bread, butter, and a five-euro bottle of pink wine.
Thanks, fruit guy! You saved Christmas!