One day, an arrogant customer came in yelling. He wanted to speak “to the boss.” My father came out, wiped his hands, and calmly said: “We don’t speak like that here. Your keys are there. Find another shop.”
Then he turned to me. “You okay?”
“Yes. Thanks, Dad.”
“Don’t thank me. And never let anyone make you feel less. Degree or no degree, your place is something you earn. And you defend it.”
Six months later, I paid him back the €1,500. He had never asked for it. But I owed it to him. Then, while we were eating pizza in silence, he said: “We’d need a website. They say if you’re not on the internet, you don’t exist. You… with your degree… could you help us?”
“Of course. But my rate is high.”
“I’ll pay you in brake pads.”
“Deal.”
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