— Oh, come on now, it’s not a big deal…
I bumped into Helen, our Finance Director, in the hallway, and she proudly showed off a cardboard box.
I asked,
— Have you brought the wages from the bank?
— No, an old friend gave it to me in the traffic jam (the box was labeled “Medical Equipment”)
— What’s he hinting at?
— Nothing in particular. I’ve known him so long that I could gift him even a deodorant, and he’d be genuinely happy. We met back in ’98. I was having major car trouble back then. I was young and naive and bought a Toyota from a dodgy dealer. The engine numbers were tampered, the customs paperwork was a sham, and even the cops I knew took money to help but did nothing. The last straw was having to fork out the last few pounds from my purse to the traffic cops to avoid getting towed.
Long story short, the car was a pricey one, but now it was only good for spare parts…
I pulled into my street, parked near the bins, sat there eating a poppy seed bagel, and cried. I didn’t want to go home in that state…
There was a knock on the window, and I opened it. A guy with a shovel, wearing an orange vest, apologised and cheerfully said:
Would you mind moving back five meters? We’re about to lay some tarmac here by the bins. Why are you crying, did something happen?
I felt like telling him to get lost and closing the window to keep out the smell of tar, but, for some reason, I ended up pouring out my troubles to him in a couple of sentences.
He responded,
— Oh, come on now, it’s not a big deal. As long as everyone’s healthy… You’re eating that bagel so deliciously, could I get a bit?
I was annoyed at myself for sharing my woes with a road worker and for his cheekiness, but I mechanically handed him a piece of bagel.
The guy goes,
— Could I have another for my mate? There’s two of us…
I was shocked at his audacity, but gave him the second bagel. I moved and continued to cry in peace, not bothering anyone else.
About ten minutes later, the worker knocked again.
I opened the window and angrily asked,
— Back for more bagels!?
The man said,
— No, do you have something to write with? Take this down.
He dictated a phone number from his notepad and added: That’s a home number; call after nine in the evening and say you’re from Joe. I’ll give him a heads-up. He’s a police chief and will probably help you out…
The man bid farewell and vanished into the haze of tarmac smoke, leaving me in a stupor, not sure what to think.
That evening, I called (what had I to lose..?)
And two days later, in the morning at the DVLA, my car was officially registered, and I got shiny new plates! (The car registration folks almost fell out of their windows trying to be helpful…)
I spent a week tracking down the road worker Joe to thank him, and eventually, my persistence paid off; I found him on a nearby street. I thanked him profusely, gave him fancy chocolates, champagne, coffee, and something else I can’t remember, and asked how he knew the chief so closely that the chief would send regards to him and his wife…
Joe explained that just six months ago, he was quite wealthy, dealing in medical equipment, but the financial crisis wiped out his business. Now, he works three jobs — a day on, three off, and even his wife, who’d never worked a day in her life, took up dishwashing in a school canteen.
All to “stay in the game,” as they lived in a huge 2000 square foot apartment in an upscale building, gritting their teeth and working hard. They sold everything except schoolbooks but refused to sell their apartment, even as utilities and security alone cost £700 a month.
They kept up appearances for their millionaire neighbors, while surviving on fifty quid a month for the three of them (thankfully, their daughter attended a regular school).
Since then, Joe and I became family friends. We always celebrate New Year’s together. It didn’t take two years for Joe to rise above where he was before the crisis.
Today, as I stood at the traffic light, someone knocked on my roof. I looked up, and there was Joe in a Jeep:
— Helen, want me to gift you a Geiger counter?
— Sure.
— Here you go, enjoy, and don’t hold back on anything…
