Ma has not said shit to me about the revolutions in North Africa. Like most people, she does not care for anyone from that part of the world. Let them revolt. Today she finally brought the subject up as we both warmed our bellies with the day's first cup of coffee.
"Gas almost $1.30. What you think Beer? That the fault of all those revolutions? China have no problem with revolution like that. They kill them all. Bang. Bang. Bang. Or prison. Soldier that join revolution get shot like that." She snapped her little fingers and looked at me like she would like to kill me for fun. Every once in a while Ma kind of freaks me out a little.
"That many revolutions going on at once can't help but have an effect on a lot of things, including gas prices," I answered. Price increases presently in effect have predictably magnified any possible shortages, especially in our market.
"Prices of everything going up like crazy," Ma continued. She held up a piece of bread she was going to put in the toaster, shook it a little. "Now bread like gold! Nobody want to pay but soon I charge $4.00 for toast and jam."
"It's a fucking war Ma," I said as I warmed to the subject and Ma's early morning enthusiasm. "Soldiers like us are always taking a bullet for someone with a condo in fucking Hawaii."
"Who save us? Who save us before everybody go broke? Nobody. Who my customer when gas $3? Everybody ride bike like back in China when that happen. People on bike no buy breakfast, no buy lunch. All skinny. Sick. Like mayor Gregor."
Ma would like to feed the bike riding mayor every day. A while back she confided in me that she thinks the mayor is one sexy motherfucker. I told her she should go meet him sometime. He is not just a talking head on the television. She is thinking about it. She has business. She has concerns. She wants to know what the fuck is going on in North Africa.