Yonja

Feeling lazy and unwilling to cook, I found myself heading over to the “Hotdog Corner,” just a block away from my house. As I opened the door to the tiny store, I expected a warm greeting from Yonja, the sweet and friendly owner of the newly opened business. Instead, I was received with a cold “Hello,” as she looked at me without her usual smile. Though I was concerned, I shied away from asking her what was wrong. After all, I was merely a customer and it was not my place to intrude on her personal life.

Once I ordered my food, I waited in awkward silence as she grilled my pizza sandwich. Finally, Yonja spoke, softly breaking the quiet air. “Where have you been?” she asked. “Oh, just at home,” I replied with a puzzled expression. “Well, you know, people are not like this where I am from,” she began. “At my shop back at home, people always come in to say hello, even if it is just to get a cup of coffee. Everyone here is so disconnected. Always so busy.” I realized that it had probably been two weeks since my last visit to her store. I never imagined that she would be offended by my absence. “Well,” she continued as she handed me the bag of food, “You should come more often. It is nice when you come by.” As I headed for the door, I turned around and gave her a weak smile. Perhaps I am not just a customer to her, I thought to myself. Perhaps I am a friend too.