One Apple A Day #59
… it continues from yesterday.
“Sir, you’re a masochist.”
Kumar looks at me smiling and tilting the head like only Indians can do. I can never understand if he’s mocking me or if it’s serious. Though, he’s one of the kindest guys you can meet in this town. And for sure the only one you can meet around here at this time of day.
“Wow. Masochist! It’s the new one for Today?” I can’t help but smile. We have this game going on between us. I don’t remember how it started. In one of our late night or early morning conversations, I told him I was a teacher. With his typical smile, he asked me for advice to improve his English. I think at that point I suggested him to learn a new word every day. Just that. I’m a strong believer of the one percent rule. I’ve probably bored him with the story of Dave Brailsford and how he made the Sky team wins the Tour de France just applying small incremental improvements everywhere. Anyway, from that day we started this innocent game. Anytime I go there to buy something he says something using a new word he learned that day.
Today the word is “masochist”. Impressive.
“Why do you think I’m a masochist, Kumar?”
“You forget to buy things and you came here so early. You don’t sleep, Sir. No good for you, Sir.”
What I life I have. The only person really concerned with my health is an Indian guy of which I know only the name. And I’m not even sure it’s his real name. I really know how to build meaningful relations.
“You know Kuman, masochist means feeling sexual pleasure in being hurt. I admit that I may be a little in love with suffering and melancholy. I think it’s my artistic side. But sexual pleasure. No no.”
Kumar is staring at me. I’m not sure I convinced him.
“By the way, masochism is derived from an Austrian writer named Leopold von Sacher-Masoch. I’m not sure I would be so proud of being remembered as the eponym of such a word.”
While my teacher’s ego is giving a questionable English lesson to a baffled Indian, I hear the typical buzz of the store’s door opening.