Twenty Dollars to Stand Here
I’m standing in a long line on Grand Street. It’s seven in the morning and it’s cold.
A big board in the shop window says: NEW PHONE. TODAY.
The man behind me is friendly. He asks a lot of questions.
“Are you buying the new phone?”
“No.”
“Is it for your brother?”
“No.”
“Do you like this brand?”
“Not really.”
He looks at my phone. It’s old. It has one small camera and a line in the glass on the back. It isn’t fancy.
“So why are you standing here?” he asks.
“My sister is buying the phone,” I say. “She’s in a warm café. She’s drinking hot chocolate. I’m standing here for her. She’s paying me twenty dollars.”
The man is quiet for a minute.
“Is your sister looking for another person?” he asks.