take care of the sunshine

I'm bored so I start with eating, and eat in all the inbetweenish times. All the non-you times.
A couple comes up to the stand and declare their need for one dozen roses,
to each other.
When I tell them the price the girl becomes angry, accusing me and hurling "RIDICULOUS"es at me and my foot that holds the cooler door open falls- letting the glass slam shut and closing the idea to them.
The boy looks up and smiles- this is her idea and his face
covered with a beardly grin pacifies her charismatic gruffness. I tell them that if it was my choice I would sell them for less, but my perception on "what is bought must be paid for" is limited to this situation since I did not have to buy the roses. Later I find out that they are Ecuadorian roses, long stemmed.
I explain further by this sentence "My boss, she is Korean." Customers and non customers always laugh at this
so at least they leave with a smile. instead of the cold fridge door, shutting loudly.
I console l myself an hour later by giving away a gerbera daisy to a little girl. I have to
you see, she came right up to where I was working on an arrangment, in her bright pink dress looking at me
as if nothing had been more polite or natural in her whole life.
It was a thirsty look, the kind that often evokes whining from such cuteness.
Something I cannot stand.
But I am sitting and I ask her what I can help her with in the most " I-am-not-giving-you-anything-for-free" voice I can muster. I realize as I ask her my eyes are darting around looking for scrap flowers, just one, to give to her.
She tells me that Mom said no already, just like that too "Mom said no already," and my mind goes back to 1,000,000,000 times of "no" I don't see anything to give her so I smile and she prances off. Her family is slow and I watch her dance around the booth crying mooooooooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmm and I see the flower. It's sitting in a water bottle, and its short, round and pink- just like her. And its looking at me and crying littttlllleee giiirrrrllllll. So, I run out and hand it to the mom and nervously run back inside. The girl does one last round, following me almost inside holding the flower proudly to her chest and exclaiming thank yous.
In a suddenly shy and cute way, and then she is gone.
Two German women with coffffeee walk by talking about what I am almost certain is frogs. Gulping hot coffee and bubbling out something completely natural to them but foreign to me. They are a walking country, an island where all they serve is hot drinks, and where the only occupants wear uggs and fuzzy track suits. A woman from last week waves and takes time to come up to the booth, thanking me for the arrangement I did. It wasn't much, just some ginger and bright green ribbon, but her son's gekko had died and she wanted something exotic to replace it.

Outside is cloudy and cold but today the thanks I have fills my heart and throws all of the cold back out the cracks and in the windows and all the way, I am sure, to Germany- wherever they are.

The girl in pink comes back to tell me that she stuck the flower under a water fountain. The flower's petals are a bit bent, but she looks up at me for approval, I hand her a water tube and say "good job" and she beams.

The only sunshine Del Mar has seen all day.

J