Sometimes after work I get this craving for Döner Kebap. So I go to this place that opened up about a year ago, which serves Döner that is about twice as expensive than the other ones, but it’s really just the best, hands down.
So today I went, and after receiving that little piece of cellophane-wrapped heaven I ambled back to my flat, when from a distance I spotted a female beggar in front of the grocery store. Equipped with at least one crutch and physical deformity, beggars have become quite popular in my district. And lately they’ve started to augment their arguments by exposing their deformities. Crippled feet, scarred bellies, the works.
So when I passed the lady, I made sure to look the other way. Yes, quite antisocial, I know. But I was hungry, I wanted to devour my Döner. And didn’t have any change. Ok, that’s a lie, I did have change. Anyway, as I turned my head the other way, I heard her mutter her line: “Need money, please spare change”. And then she said something that sounded like “cheese sandwich”, and without any chance of fighting it, an image of crippled feet, scarred bellies, cheese sandwiches and a combination of all three popped up in my head.
And all of a sudden that little wrapped packet of grilled lamb’s meat inside a crispy bun of bread didn’t water my mouth at all anymore.
so did you give her the doner? or did you throw it in the bin at home?
Well, neither. I ate it. You know me.
reminds me of a two meter something tall, clumsy, squiffy guy that saw me eating a dueruem doener in berlin. spellbound he asked for it in broken german, looking like a giant baby in search of food. i prefer donating food to donating money that might be beers, but was hungry and started dividing it, one part for me, one for him, and unintended one third for the doves. i think next time i’ll buy me another one, at least in berlin, where it costs less than 2 euro. but begging for food is a level, where i start trusting their needs.