I go to the haberdashery to fix the closure of trousers. Arrived and is closed during opening hours, but I see the owner and seller is approaching, and I hope so. While open, mumbling something that of course do not understand. I never really understood nothing but our relationship is of few words. I say "elastic" and he offers elastic. I say "hem" and I arranged the hem of trousers. I say: "pitucones" and shows me pitucones. In the years that we know, we never needed more dialogue.
But right now I can think of when it will ask his mother to prove a pair of pants I have to shrink. His mother is a seamstress, which takes measurements and makes the pins. And nice (that is to be the problem, of course I'm not trying to be nice and when I get ... so), add a comment about your mother.
Then he looks at me and says:
"That's why I told you it closed ... I come to spread his ashes.
Plop!
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