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In a Romanian grocery shop, an old couple enters. He is bored out of his wits and has had enough of stores. He just wants out. She is at her leisure, she takes her time and she analyzes very keenly every little jar, every little label. This is why she pulls up a jar of sourcherry jam and takes it right in the shopkeeper’s face.

‘This jam is grainy.’

The shopkeeper is not at all impressed; maybe she faces often enough such thorough analyses, and she tells her, ‘tilt it a little bit. You see, it’s not grainy at all!’. She (the client) smacks her lips, unfazed, and puts the jar back at its place (hopefully, for the sake of the shopkeeper) and continues her inspection. He sits now closer to the exit, like a desperate cry that he needs to leave. She cannot be bothered. And then yells at the top of her lungs, as if they were alone in this world.

‘What do you say? Shall we buy a jar of jam?’

‘No’, he answers really quickly.

‘You don’t want to?’

‘No’.

A small pause. ‘Why don’t you want to?’

‘Eh, why…?!’

Another small pause to give her enough time to inspect a couple of jars more.

‘Well, we’ll take one. It’s not that it’s up to you, is it?!’