On my way back up the hill, I stopped at the cheap gas station for some fumes for the truck. While there, I thought I’d also pick up a pack of smokes.
I asked the guy for some GPCs, and he crouched down to rummage around under the counter. He began emitting muffled language, but I couldn’t understand it: he hails from the Middle East, and I do not, so there was something of a communication problem.
When his head reappeared, I was able to understand that he was offering that if I bought two packs, I could get them for ten dollars. Which is something of a deal around here. So I said yes: he sold me.
I asked him if the place always offered GPCs that cheap, and he pointed to a hand-lettered sign inlaid on the counter, offering, for a time, Marlboros and Camels, at two packs for ten bucks. He let me understand that he thought he’d pass the same deal on to me with GPCs.
I thanked him, and turned to go.
“Come back,” he said. “I give you always.”
Now, I know that he meant that if I kept coming by the store, he would recurrently sell me the smokes two packs for ten dollars. This he expressed in “incorrect” English. But I was so charmed with what he said. So much finer than “real” English.
“I give you always.” What a wonderful thought.