I discovered that they sell burek, the local meat-filled pie, at the cake shop up the street, and so have taken to eating a burek and a piece of cake for lunch most days. The woman at the shop knows me now and knows that I only like burek--not the cheese or potato filled versions--but still waits for me to ask for it every time. Some days they have it and some days they don't, depending, I guess, on whether this woman decides she feels like baking meat that day.
This whole transaction could be cumbersome, but it struck me the other day that I actually like it, that asking for something and, one time out of ten, being told they don't have it, makes it a little tastier each time they do. Probably there's some psychological phenomenon that describes this.
This is also psychologically interesting: if she doesn't have burek, I don't buy cake. I leave empty-handed. Mose thinks I'm punishing the woman for not cooking my lunch. I hope not. She's pretty and shy and nice.
1 comment:
Oh my god! That's not what I think at all. Clearly this burek/shopwoman adventure has all the bizarre psychosexual overtones of all your other interactions with women or food. Why is it you enjoy asking for something more when you don't get the thing you're asking for? Why does this everyday interaction, unremarked by most people, become a source of angst and eventually pleasure for you? This is a rich field to explore.
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