I looked up from my hands to see her face. She was just a girl, a low-wage airport employee, but she had the most beautiful face I’d ever seen, with wide, blue eyes and bee-stung lips. Her profound words flowed from those lips for the second time, piercing my momentary stupor.
She smiled a kind, amused sort of smile. “Riddley’s or Zenith?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? The new or the old, the certain or the tentative. What I’d already had or what I had never tried. Go ahead, leap over the edge, be bold, be daring…
“Hard decision, right?” she asked, with no sign of mirth or condescension.
I could only nod in agreement, lost once again in her eyes.
“See, the thing is, Riddley’s is old-school, right? But old-school isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Zenith’s all shiny and modern in its little cigarette-case package. Life is all about the packaging, you know. Sadly, most people never really consider the crucial point.” She leaned on her elbows from behind the counter, staring as if she understood the weight behind my decision.
“And what is the crucial point?” I was surprised I found my voice.
“The taste. Does the packaging make it taste better or worse?”
I considered that for a moment. “It makes no difference, unless the company puts more resources into making it look better, emphasizing less on the taste.”
“Exactly. Wrappers are meaningless. It’s about what lies inside, the same as people.”
No customer reviews for the moment.