“Hey, shoeshine, you won’t make any money sleeping on the job.”
I looked up, unable to believe it. It was Seu Coquinho, the doorman of the casino.
He placed one shoe on the box and I wiped it with my rag first, then wet the shoe and dried it off.
Then I started carefully rubbing in the shoe polish.
“Could you please lift up your trouser leg, sir?” He did as I asked.
“Working today, Zezé?” “I’ve never needed to more.”
“And how was Christmas?” “It was OK.” I tapped the box with the brush and he changed feet.
I repeated the steps and then began to polish. When I finished, I tapped the box and he took his shoe off it.
“How much, Zezé?” “Two tostões.” “Why only two? Everyone else charges four.”
“I’ll only be able to charge that much when I’m a really good shoeshine. But not now.”
He handed me five tostões. “Keep the change for Christmas. See you later.”
“Merry Christmas, Seu Coquinho.” Maybe he’d come to get his shoes polished because of what had happened three days earlier.
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