The laser pointer

 

On the Czech side of the border with Germany, along a mountain road that overlooks high pastureland for miles and miles, there are dozens of Asian-owned shantytown shops peddling booze, cigarettes, pirated CDs and knock-off designer label clothing including the most popular soccer and Formula 1 brands. The clientele for these stores are mostly Germans who do their shopping on the Czech side of the border because it’s cheaper, or expats like my wife Jarmila and me, who pass by on their way between homes.

So last week as we drove to Jarmila’s village in the CZ for Christmas, it occurred to me that I could really use a laser pointer during my English classes. Jarmila pointed out that I didn’t really need one because I had taught fine for years without one. But since I jump at any chance to upgrade our technological standing, we pulled into one of the snowy shantytown parking lots. As we slowed to find a parking place, we both looked through the windshield in surprise as no less than five of the parka-wearing shopkeepers hustled out through the ankle-deep snow, each waving at us to park in front of and shop at their booth. I think they had seen our German license plates.

As an act of protest, Jarmila stayed in the car, and I hustled over without a jacket to the nearest overcrowded booth. Like the ten that flanked it on either side, this one was overflowing with the most random of junk, and as I stepped in I was surrounded by three small oriental shopkeepers hassling me to buy various objects, including a pair of sunglasses, a children’s backpack, and a pair of jeans. I looked back at Jarmila, who was giggling in the warm car. What had I gotten myself into?

One of the shopkeepers was speaking pidgin German, one was speaking pidgin Czech, and the last was speaking in an indistinct oriental tongue. Alas, my mind was working in English and I was freezing my butt off, so once I was able to cut through the din and tell them what I wanted, I rushed into buying the first laser pointer that looked unassuming. It was 100 Crowns, roughly three dollars, and once back in the car I was pleased I had purchased something so useful and necessary so cheaply. Plus, Jarmila had enjoyed the show and it gave us something to speak about as we made our way home.

After we had arrived and said hello to Jarmila’s family, virtually the first thing I did was tear open the laser pointer box. Pointing it at the wall, I pressed the button and the laser itself shone in red wonder. The problem though, was the hellish, high-pitched laughing noise that came out as well. It’s aggression stunned me, and I immediately stopped pressing the button. I looked around furtively to check if anyone had seen, and sure enough there was Jarmila, standing in the doorway with her jaw hanging.

I looked at her meekly and smiled, then pressed the button again to make sure that the hellish noise was really there. It was, and we burst out laughing at its strangeness.

As humor gave way to my being deflated at having such a crappy new toy, I placed the pointer back into its box because I was determined to exchange it when we next passed the shantytown.

This turned out to be a week later as we were returning home from our Christmas holiday. I stopped in the exact same shanty and went through the same song and dance of parking and being hassled before I explained, in Czech, that I wanted to exchange my laser pointer because it was for business and it had that stupid voice thing.

Again surrounded by three smallish people jabbering at me in three languages, the upshot of the conversation was no way would they exchange it. I'd have to buy a new one.

I tried to haggle, but in the end I lost my patience and told them there was no way I was gonna pay for another one. Huffily trudging back to the car, I told Jarmila what happened. She thought it was just my poor Czech causing the problem, so she took the pointer in hand and tried her luck. As I sat behind the wheel watching the four of them haggle, it occurred to me that the three dollars I had spent were well worth the show I was watching. They were all gesturing heatedly and I wasn’t surprised when Jarmila came back without having exchanged the thing.

So now I'm stuck with a devilishly-laughing laser pointer that’s only good for one thing. Jarmila thinks the laser will burn her if I point it at her too long, which has provided me with hours worth of good-natured tomfoolery.