B is for Stealing

Another late entry but still... timely. Pax. There is a man. He sells Gyros. And while there are many men around Trinidad selling Gyros, this man am I interested in. I stopped (we stopped), past the horde of greasy stall owners with claims to halal burgers, to a stand lit by one bulb, with one man- Middle Eastern – trying to unravel a roll of foil that at the time was besting him. he stood up as the car approached. Heaven knows how long he was there. and he waits on us as I dilly and dally about the ratio of lamb to chicken gyros I wanted (I eventually settled on all four lamb gyros). One single stall. Everyone seemed to know where he was (MY MOM knew where he was) and they slowed their cars to get a gyro. The mixed ones seem to be all the rage. I looked at him and felt something. Was it pity? Did I feel pity for this lonesome gyro dude? Nah, that’s not it. I felt something between appreciation and honor for this man. for while the masses gripe about getting up early he stays late do...