yesterday at supermarket After I collected everything I needed in the cart, I headed to the cashier. dear, cashier Pack the products and wait for me to pay:”ATM or credit card? I knew he wasn’t with me, and I searched my pocket for Cash I was sure I had enough and instead: the gods forty euro That served I only had twenty. over there cashier, who has so far given me something like hers, turned to me with you, understanding and not at all moved by my unexpected poverty. That you, so affectionate, surely a surprise to me, lasted the whole time sad parting What I could pay What I couldn’t pay because of me distraction. “You have at least another twenty cents twenty euros? “.
I had them myself twenty cents And so I collected half of my spending while heading to a corner, where there was already a pile of produce that had been returned due to the incompetence of my other companions in a brief ordeal, and hopefully the other half of what I was going to get I want to buy. I switched the money to you as soon as I knew I couldn’t pay what I had bought but the painful sign of how poverty produces, as a side effect, an immediate drop in reputation. Emphasizing that poverty, whether apparent or not, immediately reduces dignityHe authorizes – intentionally or unknowingly – this sudden and sad social decline. A mountain of unpaid products, piled by the cashier – who points it to me – to their products shoulders (I dare not think for how long) It was the haunting visual document of our time.
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