“Did you try Mr. Francisco’s vegetable store?” I asked. “He always has the ones that are hard to get.”
“I’m not driving that far just for your avocados,” Sherry said. “If you want them that bad, drive yourself.”
“Don Franco, where are your watermelons?” the lady ahead of me in line at Francisco’s asked.
“Watermelon season starts in about two weeks señora,” Francisco said. “In two weeks, we got plenty melons.”
I could see into the back room where one watermelon sat on a table with a dozen avocados.
“I’m so disappointed,” the lady told him. “I’m having a big dinner and I really wanted watermelon. People tell me you always keep your special vegetables and fruits in the back room.”
Don Franco laughed.
“O.K. señora Miller,” he said. “I keep them for my best customers, and you are one of them. Hold on a minute.”
He went into the back room and came out with the melon. He put it on the scale and said, “Seven pounds, three ounces.”
“That’s a little small,” Ms. Miller said. “Do you have any that are bigger?”
“I got one more,” Don Franco said. “It’s only a little bit bigger.”
He walked into the back room and I could see that all he did was bring back the same melon. He put it on the scale.
“This one weighs eight pounds, six ounces,” he told the lady.
From where I was standing, I could see that he had his thumb on the scale.
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Ms. Miller said. “I’ll take both of them.”
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