The Bag

Behind his counter, the cashier waited for the customer's cooperation.

The latter would have to interrupt his phone conversation in order to conclude the transaction. Customer service sometimes required juggling diplomacy and priorities. Even though the customer was always right, Jonas made sure the rule did not only apply to the first in line. He pointed to the queue, and the man redirected his attention.

Jonas seized the opportunity to ask:

“Would you like a bag?”

“Uh ... yes.”

The person paid and left. After him came a man in his forties. Today, Ronald was wearing a yellow polo shirt. Usually he wore a suit, but since yesterday evening, he had been on vacation. He placed a book on the counter.

“Good morning!” said Jonas.

“Good morning!”

“It is twenty-two even.”

“Perfect.”

Ronald took his wallet out of his pocket and brandished a credit card.

“Go ahead,” said Jonas, indicating the bank terminal.

Moments later he added:

“Shall I give you a bag?”

Ronald did not know. Usually, he demanded a bag, even if he was heading straight to his car. To begin with, you could always use one, especially since some shops did not give them anymore. Also, the business man in him accepted everything multinational companies offered. It was something anyway. They could afford it, in view of their profits. Besides, the planet would not decline because he, Ronald, allowed himself a bag. When factories stopped pouring their waste into the rivers, one would discuss it again.

He looked the cashier in the eye and answered:

“Yes, please.”

Jonas grabbed a bag between his thumb and forefinger and opened it with a flick of the wrist. Gazing at the scene, Ronald immersed himself in other reflections. After all, did he really need a bag? It was the first day of his vacation. Outside, the sun shone, and a period of freedom lay before him, still full of promise. Perhaps he would read his book in a park or—why not?—at that café terrace by which he walked every morning. He never took the time to stop there. Then he could wander about. Perhaps he would chance on the ideal birthday gift for his sister, with whom he got along so well. He would even buy the ingredients to make a pie. She would be surprised, that's for sure! A smile on his lips, Ronald decided that, assuredly, he did not need a bag.

… Meanwhile, the cashier had stuffed the book in a small bag. Back to reality, Ronald turned around rapidly. Behind him, three other customers waited. He gauged the situation. Could he change his mind? It wasn't very considerate of him. Yes, no, yes, no ... And these people were still waiting. He had better hurry. Disappointed, Ronald grasped his purchase and addressed furtive thanks to the cashier.

He would not read his book at the café.





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