Sunday, December 5, 2010

live bullets

I was a candy pusher in middle school. I used to get about 10 different kinds of candy for a penny at Amaco, but my biggest seller was the fortune bubble gum. It’s a stick of gum, in lucky Chinese red wrapper with a fortune inside. My mother drove me to Amaco once a week, I’d buy ten dollars worth and put them in bags of twenty five pieces and resold it for fifty cents a bag.

I never had to take into account the gas it took every week, the time spent in the car, time spent on separating the candy, the bags and rubber bands my mother paid for without asking for reimbursement. Every bag I sold, I made a quarter. Simple mathematics.

“There’s nothing in there, it’s not even live,” I protested.

The airport agent pointed to the sign about transporting ammunition and illegal goods.

“Can I send it? What if I send it?” I insisted.

The airport agent pointed to the sign prohibiting the mailing of ammunition and illegal goods.They got their stuff covered on this side of the gate, which is funny because I didn’t see any of these signs when I came into Saigon.

“You know the guy who sold this said I shouldn’t have any problems.”

Once again, he referred me to the sign.

Three bucks a bullet. Advertised as real authentic bullets from the Vietnam war (but in Vietnam it’s known as the American war). For an extra buck, I could get a keychain slapped on it. The bullets were sold all over the streets of Saigon. I bought six as souvenirs.

“So you’re saying, there’s no way these bullets are leaving with me out of Vietnam? Why is it even legal to sell?"

After ten minutes of protests, I unwillingly handed over the bullets. The airport agent dumped them into a box, filled with thousands of other bullets, the same bullets that he will sell to the vendors on the streets of Saigon as soon as his shift is over.

Three bucks a bullet, for an extra buck they'll throw in a keychain. Six souvenirs waiting for the next sucker. Twenty four bucks gone along with a piece of my faith in humanity. Mathematics, sometimes it's just not that simple.

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