Smirk, the smirk is a truly amazing thing. The cheek behind it, the confidence, the knowing aura of it, it can take the receiver away when timed correctly. This morning jumping on the minibus, after my mini war through the bus rush a beggar jumped on after me. A baby wrapped in typical, flowery, wool, Turkish blankets she passed her fare over to the driver. Obviously short a few bobs, the driver who wasn’t looking at the beggar checked the fare in his hand and just as he was about to object about it being short, he was faced by the grin of the beggar.
She knew it, she knew he was still going to let her stay on. When he saw her, he shrugged his shoulder as if in dismay and threw the money into his in his fare box. She sat at the back of the minibus proud with victory. He however blew it of as a common occurrence and accepted defeat.
Her smirk though, it made my day.
Gypsy beggars here are dark and olive-skinned, they generally have light green or turquoise blue eyes and both its men and women are petite. They are famous for their sneaky and unlawful ways, troublesome by nature, people don’t like to piss them off. And her smile let of that vibe precisely, she was going pay whatever her heart desired, she had power even though it was never given to her. They are human rodents really hence we all knew not mess with her.