“Oh, come on, it’s not a big deal…”
I bumped into Sarah, our financial director, in the hallway, and she was boasting about a cardboard box she had.
I asked her, “Did you bring our pay from the bank?”
“No, an old friend gave it to me while we were stuck in traffic,” she replied (the box had the label ‘Medical Equipment’).
“What’s he hinting at with that?”
“Nothing at all! I’ve known him long enough that I could gift him even a deodorant, and he’d be genuinely happy about it. We met back in ’98. I had quite a bit of trouble with my car back then. I was young and foolish, bought a Toyota from a shady dealer. The vehicle had tampered serial numbers, improper customs documents, and even some friendly cops took money promising to help, yet did nothing. To top it off, I handed over the last pounds from my wallet to the traffic police to avoid having the car towed.”
So here I was, stuck with this expensive car that was only good for parts now. I parked near the bins in my apartment’s car park and started eating a poppy seed bagel, crying my eyes out. I couldn’t face going home like that.
A man in an orange vest knocked on my window, apologizing. “Could you please move your car five meters? We’re resurfacing the area in front of the bins. Why are you crying, though? Something happen?”
I wanted to tell him to go away and shut the window so the asphalt smell wouldn’t bother me, but I ended up somehow telling him my whole problem.
He replied, “Oh, come on, it’s not a big deal, as long as everyone’s healthy… You’re really enjoying that bagel. Mind if I have a bite?”
I was annoyed at myself for sharing my problems with a road worker and by his cheekiness, but instinctively, I offered him a bagel.
“Could I have another one for my mate? There are two of us here…”
Shocked by his audacity, I handed over another bagel. I drove away, continuing to cry in peace without bothering anyone.
Barely ten minutes later, he knocked again.
I opened the window and asked irritably, “You want more bagels?!”
“No, do you have something to write with?” he said.
He scribbled a phone number from his notepad. “This is a home number. Call after nine in the evening and say you’re from Mike. I’ll give him a heads up. He’s a police commissioner, and he’ll surely sort you out…”
He said goodbye and disappeared into the clouds of asphalt dust, leaving me dumbstruck.
That evening, I called the number (what did I have to lose?).
By the morning two days later, at the DVLA, my car was officially registered, and new plates were issued! (The clerks were practically falling over themselves to assist me.)
For a week, I searched for the road worker Mike to thank him, and eventually, word led me to find him on a nearby street. I thanked him profusely, gave him an expensive box of chocolates, champagne, coffee, and some other stuff I can’t even remember. Curious, I asked how he knew the commissioner so well that greetings were exchanged between families…
Mike explained that until six months ago, he wasn’t doing badly; he was dealing in medical equipment, but the economic downturn had wrecked his business. Now, he worked three jobs round the clock, with even his wife, who’d never worked a day, taking a role in a school canteen washing up.
All these sacrifices were to stay “in the loop.” They lived in a massive luxury apartment spanning two hundred square meters, scraped by painfully, selling everything they owned except for the children’s schoolbooks. Yet, they couldn’t bring themselves to sell the flat despite the £900 monthly expenses for utilities and security.
In front of wealthy neighbors, they maintained appearances while surviving on fifty quid a month for three (luckily, their daughter went to a state school).
Since then, Mike and I have become close family friends. We always celebrate New Year’s together. It didn’t take even two years for Mike to rise above where he was before the downturn.
Today, someone tapped on my car roof while I was stopped at a traffic light, and it was Mike in his SUV.
“Hey Sarah, want a Geiger counter as a gift?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Here you go, enjoy it without holding back on anything…”
