What Is It About Those Cookies?
Cookies, they do make most of us smile, and perhaps make our mouths water with anticipation. Maybe it is a fond memory of a childhood experience, or maybe it’s simpler than that… we just plain like them.
Here in Mazatlán, I have seen folks use these cute little devils to bribe people behind counters in government buildings to expedite their business. Yes, this is when I first discovered the value of the cookies.
I had spent hours at the Immigration office to renew my visa, when my number was finally called. I was excited as you would expect. But, something happened that day that widened my horizons. The nice man behind the counter was helping me when I saw his eyes drift off to a woman walking through the door.
“Senora Jones”, he said with a big smile.
At first, I thought she was his friend; yes, he was just being cordial to a friend. Other thoughts entered my mind as I soon became aware that my first place standing had suddenly been downgraded to second. Perhaps she was a famous person, a movie star or political figure. That would be easy to understand.
I politely put up with his indignant behavior, my quick-witted mind realizing that I could be rejected all day if I wasn’t careful. The frozen smile on my face was beginning to make my jaws ache by the time he finished with Mrs. Jones and gave me his attention once again.
The man completed my papers and told me to go to the bank to pay the money due for this precious card. “Come back after you are done at the bank so I can finish this process.” He smiled at me and called the next number.
I got to the bank in record time, I was so ready for this ordeal to be over. The doors to the bank weren’t open yet so I stood with a small crowd of folks looking at the door, hoping it would move (my dog does that when she wants to go for a walk). I looked to my side and there was Mrs. Jones!
“Well, hello. I saw you at the Immigration office,” I said graciously. “It looked like you and the man behind the counter are good friends.” Kind of sneaky, I know.
Mrs. Jones looked at me with a smirk and replied, “No, but I brought him cookies this morning. It works every time.”
You know that feeling when a notion just smacks your brain, “Wow! I could have had a V-8!” It was a powerful lesson, one of those times when I had been given a key that would unlock future waits for the people behind the counters.
I have some dear friends here in town, a married couple. They love to listen to music, dance to tunes of all the great offerings of Mazatlán’s night life. They take cookies to the bands. Now, of course this is not bribery on their part; nothing but pure kindness, but it goes a long way in making the music members happy. Before I even met this couple, my band friends told me about them, and how much they looked forward to their treats. Did I mention that this couple has a reserved table right in front of the band?
Cookies, it may have been the best lesson I learned this winter. I’d better go, the smell of the cookies in my oven is telling me they are ready for packaging. What is it about those cookies?
__________________________________________________________
Got comments? You will find the comment box below this story.
__________________________________________________________
You can read all about drama in my novels. Check them out at www.cmichaelsbooks.com, author of Twisted Thrillers.
__________________________________________________________
Here in Mazatlán, I have seen folks use these cute little devils to bribe people behind counters in government buildings to expedite their business. Yes, this is when I first discovered the value of the cookies.
I had spent hours at the Immigration office to renew my visa, when my number was finally called. I was excited as you would expect. But, something happened that day that widened my horizons. The nice man behind the counter was helping me when I saw his eyes drift off to a woman walking through the door.
“Senora Jones”, he said with a big smile.
At first, I thought she was his friend; yes, he was just being cordial to a friend. Other thoughts entered my mind as I soon became aware that my first place standing had suddenly been downgraded to second. Perhaps she was a famous person, a movie star or political figure. That would be easy to understand.
I politely put up with his indignant behavior, my quick-witted mind realizing that I could be rejected all day if I wasn’t careful. The frozen smile on my face was beginning to make my jaws ache by the time he finished with Mrs. Jones and gave me his attention once again.
The man completed my papers and told me to go to the bank to pay the money due for this precious card. “Come back after you are done at the bank so I can finish this process.” He smiled at me and called the next number.
I got to the bank in record time, I was so ready for this ordeal to be over. The doors to the bank weren’t open yet so I stood with a small crowd of folks looking at the door, hoping it would move (my dog does that when she wants to go for a walk). I looked to my side and there was Mrs. Jones!
“Well, hello. I saw you at the Immigration office,” I said graciously. “It looked like you and the man behind the counter are good friends.” Kind of sneaky, I know.
Mrs. Jones looked at me with a smirk and replied, “No, but I brought him cookies this morning. It works every time.”
You know that feeling when a notion just smacks your brain, “Wow! I could have had a V-8!” It was a powerful lesson, one of those times when I had been given a key that would unlock future waits for the people behind the counters.
I have some dear friends here in town, a married couple. They love to listen to music, dance to tunes of all the great offerings of Mazatlán’s night life. They take cookies to the bands. Now, of course this is not bribery on their part; nothing but pure kindness, but it goes a long way in making the music members happy. Before I even met this couple, my band friends told me about them, and how much they looked forward to their treats. Did I mention that this couple has a reserved table right in front of the band?
Cookies, it may have been the best lesson I learned this winter. I’d better go, the smell of the cookies in my oven is telling me they are ready for packaging. What is it about those cookies?
__________________________________________________________
Got comments? You will find the comment box below this story.
__________________________________________________________
You can read all about drama in my novels. Check them out at www.cmichaelsbooks.com, author of Twisted Thrillers.
__________________________________________________________
Published on April 17, 2013 08:09
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