I felt like a kid who'd just stolen a phone and now had to crack the password.
I let out a frustrated sigh and gave up on the phone. As I turned to leave, the owner asked, "Changed your mind about charging your phone?"
"Nah, I don't need it anymore."
"Broken?"
I hesitated for a second. If I told him the truth, he'd either think I was a thief or I'd have to explain that I'd been in prison for three years. So I just nodded and walked to the other side of the shop.
Just then, the kid yelled from the back, "Your fries are ready, sir."
Sir? Neither his casual tone nor his respectfulness sat right with me.
I went up to pay. "Thirty perds?" I asked. "That's pretty expensive."
"That's the price everywhere, sir. We're actually cheaper than in the city. In the city center, they charge 45 perds for the same thing."
Forty-five perds? Come on! It felt like I'd been gone for twenty years. I remember the first time I had fries. It was four years ago, and it wasn't even a dessert or a side dish, but I really enjoyed it. Back then, it was only eight perds.
But I had to buy them. I couldn't just leave them there after he'd made them for me. I found my wallet and counted the money. I had 132 perds! If I gave him thirty, what would I do with the rest? Who knows how much everything else costs now?
But the owner didn't know any of that. I handed him thirty perds for a bunch of fries and left the shop. Finally, it was over.
I picked one up, hoping at least they'd taste good. But then, I realized that you really do get what you pay for...
End of Part One