The Flower Vendor
On the main street, in our neighborhood, there is a small supermarket. It is always busy. Stylishly dressed young women in their expensive cars frequent this store. Soft music plays to make their shopping a more pleasant experience. An attractive, smiling young woman stands behind the cheese counter. She offers you a sample of her various cheeses. Another young lady stands by the cold cut counter. The place is always bustling.
Outside, underneath the awning, a thirty-something-year-old Mexican man stands with his buckets filled with assorted flowers. He looks weather-beaten and tired, as if he has gone through some pretty hard times, yet he always wears a pleasant smile upon his face. He stands there in all seasons, in the heat of summer, in the rain of springtime, in the cold of winter, in the autumn… in all four seasons. Sometimes, when he gets tired, he wearily sits down upon an inverted bucket with his elbows on his knees and his face cupped into his hands. He looks as if he is yearning for a bit of rest.
He pays the store owners a stipend for the right of standing there and also for storing his flowers in their walk-in refrigerator. This arrangement benefits both parties. It somehow adds to the appeal of the store, to have this convenience. His flowers are lovely. Women especially cannot resist them. Men stop before going home at the end of the working week to buy a bouquet for their wives or lovers.
For about two or three years the flower vendor stood there. During the winter, on our way back from having coffee at Lulu’s and when the garden was bare, Peter and I would stop and buy flowers. In spring I could not resist his tulips, daffodils, and narcissus! Peter knew this and on his way back from work he would frequently buy a bunch or two. We looked forward to stopping at his stand, chatting with him as we passed by and bought flowers.
One day Peter and I noticed that two stores down from the little supermarket, a flower shop had opened up. A young woman who lived in the neighborhood had noticed his brisk sales of flowers and decided it was a good idea to open a flower shop. She drove the poor Mexican out of his business. He couldn’t compete with her. Peter and I felt saddened and a bit angry at her. We missed his friendly smile as he greeted us each time we passed by, whether we bought his flowers or not.
Soon, she began blocking the sidewalk. She displayed her flowers almost to the edge of the sidewalk. It made it difficult to walk by her store. One day I complained about that. I use a walker when I walk around the neighborhood running my errands. Her flowers made it difficult for me to maneuver the sidewalk with all the flowers she put out. That morning I was not feeling too well. I felt challenged weaving through all her flowers. My other alternative was to walk on the street, past the parked cars and into the oncoming traffic. That, I certainly did not wish to do! I was frustrated and upset. I stood by the entrance of her store and addressed my concerns. Instead of apologizing and promising to correct the situation, she angrily answered, “Well, I have to earn a living, you know!’’
I was outraged! I thought to myself, how about the poor Mexican man who stood outside the supermarket, didn’t he have a right to make a living? Did she even give a thought to him when she literally snatched his livelihood out of his mouth! And why did she think she can take over the city sidewalk? I fumed at her arrogant attitude! I will never shop there, I decided!
When I need to buy flowers, I drive down about thirty blocks or so. There is another flower shop there. It is run by a Mexican husband and wife. They are friendly. They are welcoming. Last week I needed to send some flowers to a friend. The wife was running the store alone. She had her two little boys with her. The two children sat quietly in the corner with their coloring books. I asked her where her husband was. Now that the winter season is over, he is working within a landscaping company, she answered. It is the season.
I thought of the flower vendor that used to be in our neighborhood. Where did he go? How is he faring? Has a landscaping company hired him also? I truly hope so. He was happy earning his modest living. Then that self-absorbed woman decided it would be fun to have a flower shop. So she took his living away from him. I always thought that if you are going to fight, fight with someone your own size. Don’t pick on the underdog! It is unjust and unscrupulous! Sometimes, if I pass by her shop, I see a sign stuck on the window. It says, “If you need flowers, call my cell phone. I live around the corner. I will be right over.” I mentally shake my head in disgust as I walk by.