Sandwiches
There's a minimall a couple of blocks away from my house. It's got a supermarket with a Japanese name. Matsusei. It's got a coffeeshop, a dry cleaner, a sushi joint, a tepanyaki place, A few jewelers. A couple of clothing stores.
I know what you're thinking. But, what this mall lacks in pornography, it more than makes up for with sandwiches. I've wanted to live next to an honest to God sandwich shop since I showed up on this muggy, bug-infested, cannibal ridden island. Walking about a block to buy a sandwich. . . That's almost as cool as walking into your kitchen and making one!
But, hell, if there's no love for the sandwich, here in Taiwan, why SHOULD supermarkets stock bread?
This “New-Open” sandwich shop only has four kinds of sandwiches. Three of them probably aren't even that good. Those three are Turkey and Beef and Salmon. I usually get the ham. Ham on cheese on wheat with lots of onions. The cheese, it's swiss. . . extra sharp. The ham is tough. . . it's more like bacon without the fat.
The place is supposed to close down at nine thirty. I walked over there at ten past nine and the woman was closing up shop. She'd already wiped the cutting boards down, and stowed the bread. She asked me if I'd just come back from work and I lied and said yes. I felt bad about making her unpack the fixings for the sandwiches, so I asked her to make me two.
She's getting ready to clear her thirties. She's got the body of a full woman. Like she's taken in as much life as she can in the time alloted her. This sandwich place has been a long time coming, She's worked for this. I've been there eight times and I only see her, there. She's working this herself. She could've taken a chance with a Subway franchise, but she wants to work it herself. That is, until she can afford to pay someone to do it.
She tries to promote the minimall her place is in. She passes out these coupon books. The coupon for her place has it at 15NT off any sandwich. That's fifty cents.
Sandwich shops, as I've said, are hard to come by. The Taiwanese haven't been swept up and carried away by their love for sandwiches. Those who open sandwich stops are still among the brave. They've got that entrepreneurial spirit that sustains them through the suspenseful opening days. They've got the drive to wring every last penny from the operation. Her life and work.
She'll go without sleep, if she needs to. She'll hold on to the place as if her life depended on it. . . and it does, it does. Her life revolves around her work, but the centrifugal force of it, and the velocity at which she spins, are pleasurable sensations. They are part of what makes her happy. Her life and work. A cold, rocky moon revolving around a gaseous and storm-ridden planet.
She wears the same hosiery, every time I see her. . . she's got a white blouse, a black skirt that drops just past the calf, and these stockings that have diamonds stitched into them. . . and a pair of busted, black sneakers. That's all you ever see her in. If you eye someone that way too long, you'll pass right them by him, on his day off.
Whenever that might be.
She throws the sandwiches together fast. Toasts them. Bags them up. Stamps your card for the freebie after you buy ten. She asks if you have the coupon she gave you last time and you lie again and tell her your dog chewed them up. She takes your money and gives you your change plus three new coupon books.. You can tell she'd been hoping for more customers to turn up.
She's still cheery, though. It's only the tenth, or so, and rent is over two weeks away. You think she might wish business was better, but she's glad she doesn't sell porn for a living. She's looking forward to getting someone to work for her. She's looking forward to paying someone to be there. She's looking forward to not working. . . to that point at which she's jettisoned from the orbit around work and into a new one. , , The sensations are the same, but the perspective is vastly different.