Charlie is indecisive to the point of paranoia. He lies awake every night and muses over the day’s decisions. Something as simple as a trip to the grocery store can be an absolute nightmare. Making a selection from their vast array of chocolate bars can consume the better part of an afternoon. No, Charlie’s special treat comes in the form of not buying one at all. He braves the street only when absolutely necessary, and, after three days without food, yesterday’s outing was crucial to say the least. During this purposeful stroll he bumped into an old high school friend. “Hey Chuck, how have you been?” I asked, presenting my hand for the greeting.
“Ahh, I don’t know,” Charlie stammered, ignoring the offered gesture.
“You seem well,” I lied – he looked as old as my grandfather.
“Ok,” he said, slightly confused by the comment.
“Is everything alright?” I asked, sensing the approaching insanity.
“I just can’t make decisions,” Charlie sighed. “The only thing that’s truly certain is my inability to decide.”
“Why don’t you try tossing a coin?” I suggested. “That’s what I do. If you rely on fate your true desire will override. In a menu crisis I always toss a coin. If fish is the result, and deep down I wanted chicken, I’ll reverse fate’s ruling – it just forces the decision.”
“That’s brilliant,” said Charlie, decisively. “I have to go and try it.” He turned and left without another word.
Charlie removed two chocolate bars from the display shelf and placed them on the Seven Eleven counter. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a handful of coins. He glanced down at the collection: a hoard of five and ten cent pieces, and for reasons he couldn’t quite remember, an alluring five rand coin. Charlie was completely overwhelmed: ‘What denomination?’ ‘Which year of minting?’ ‘What side suites which product?’
“Ahh, I don’t know,” Charlie stammered, ignoring the offered gesture.
“You seem well,” I lied – he looked as old as my grandfather.
“Ok,” he said, slightly confused by the comment.
“Is everything alright?” I asked, sensing the approaching insanity.
“I just can’t make decisions,” Charlie sighed. “The only thing that’s truly certain is my inability to decide.”
“Why don’t you try tossing a coin?” I suggested. “That’s what I do. If you rely on fate your true desire will override. In a menu crisis I always toss a coin. If fish is the result, and deep down I wanted chicken, I’ll reverse fate’s ruling – it just forces the decision.”
“That’s brilliant,” said Charlie, decisively. “I have to go and try it.” He turned and left without another word.
Charlie removed two chocolate bars from the display shelf and placed them on the Seven Eleven counter. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a handful of coins. He glanced down at the collection: a hoard of five and ten cent pieces, and for reasons he couldn’t quite remember, an alluring five rand coin. Charlie was completely overwhelmed: ‘What denomination?’ ‘Which year of minting?’ ‘What side suites which product?’