There was only one place in town where I could find it.
I didn’t know this before I started looking for.
It took me some tens of walked miles and thus sweat and pains until I followed the last hint someone gave me to find this small bizarre-as-all-should-look-like drugstore.
Behind the counter displaying a full set of different kinds and shapes of razor blades there was this middle-aged guy.
He was tall and bold and wore a lousy t-shirt and a thick cigar on his lips.
Yeah, he told me had it.
He spoke perfect English and started asking me questions about the machine that I didn’t know the answers to. Well I could tell him the basic…
He obviously had a good impression on this specific brand and soon he was telling me I should go for the originals, the original bags. These were not in paper, as they are usually expected. They were in this special cloth which I can’t remember the name, and with all these special features that should enforce me to take them… I couldn’t stop thinking that I was getting advise on this exquisite wine whose characteristics this guy just absolutely adored and could turn into these words that really anticipate your perception when tasting it.
He turned his attention to the cigar and then he also gave some tips on how to optimise the performance just by changing some other spare parts that were also included with the bags.
I took it.
At the moment I was just hoping that he guessed right and I was walking home with the proper things so I wouldn’t have to return and change them as he promptly offered to in case of misfit.
But guys, when I finally got home, put the new bags in, which were as he predicted the right ones, and turned the thing on… That sucker just grabbed the floor like I never seen any other do.
© José Vicente
Wednesday, May 30
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