Franco had wandered around the city all night, times had changed and work was not as easy as it used to be. He had also had two days without eating almost anything, which made him feel quite tired, he had also changed, now he was older and no longer so skilled. At the corner he saw an old woman, she looked healthy despite her age, Franco fixed his eyes on her purse, it was thin straps so the job would be easy. He ran like an animal towards the poor woman and without stopping he snatched her purse from her shoulder, he could hear the woman fall to the ground from the force of the pull.
So many years of being a common thief had taught him not to look back, it was the best thing to do, so he didn't have to see the person he was robbing of her belongings. After two hours walking he entered an abandoned store, went down a flight of stairs and found three other men, two of them were happy to see him, but the youngest of them looked at him suspiciously.
"I thought you weren't coming back, you can't tell these days."
"You'd like to get caught by the police, wouldn't you David?"
"What would I gain from that? You've become so weak that you're capable of giving away the location of our lair if you get caught."
"You're calling me a traitor on top of everything else? Don't forget that I am your father."
"And you don't forget that I'm the boss of this place. We're not here to chat Franco what did you bring?"
Franco threw the wallet on the table, but when they opened it a few grams of ground coffee fell out. The other two men celebrated, but David didn't look satisfied.
"This is garbage, I can't believe we're coffee thieves now. You raised me inside this business when money was money and coffee was just a breakfast drink. But now, we have to go around picking coffee, we're not even thieves anymore, we look like fucking farmers."
"Don't talk like a damn ignorant David, the new world order proposed coffee as a stable, solid and real currency of exchange. In recent years money was nothing more than printed bills or number on a screen with no treasure to back its value; coffee on the other hand is the black gold of the new world, its value is material, real, tangible. This has improved the economy exponentially, poverty has been almost totally eradicated, even the ways in which we used to relate to each other have changed. We, for example, stopped being thieves or scum to become collectors."
"We changed our name but the reality remains the same. Nothing has changed in essence, poverty has not been eradicated, the rich continue to accumulate coffee beans and the poor walk around with their wallets stained by ground coffee, a sad fraction of coffee bean. The upper echelons continue to be dens of corruption, from the highest levels to the police who are their fighting dogs. Everyone has a price, it used to be paid in money and now it is paid in coffee."
"How much are you worth? Do you think I'll get anything if I turn you in to the police?"
"What do you mean, are you threatening me?"
"I mean I'm tired of this criminal life, when you were a kid I was a thief because there were no other opportunities. But you are one for pleasure, you could do something different with your life now that there are opportunities."
"There are no opportunities dad, you haven't understood anything. Go out on the street and try to do things right and you'll see how they spit in your face."
Franco stormed out of the den, he was disappointed in his son David, he was convinced that if he handed him over to the police he would be giving him a chance to pay for his crimes and redeem himself. He needed to get the attention of the police, so he chose a victim, this time it was a man, he looked well off. He ran up to the man and snatched the leather briefcase, immediately the nearest police car approached him and intersected him. It was rush hour and the crowd surrounded the patrol car, as the policemen handcuffed him Franco began to shout that he would turn himself in.
"I'll tell you everything, where the other collectors are, I'll give you the location of the lair."
At that moment the policemen began to beat him very hard, they put him in the patrol car when he was already bleeding from the blows. The owner of the briefcase arrived at the scene looking for what was his, but the police told him it was evidence for the case and left without explanation. When he had moved away from the crowd the copilot opened the briefcase, which indeed had a large amount of coffee beans, the two celebrated for the booty that was now theirs. While caressing the coffee beans the cop looked at Franco fixedly and commented to his partner:
"Isn't this David's father?"
"Sure he is, an old school thief."
"And why the hell did you yell out that you wanted to turn yourself in old man, have you gone crazy?"
Franco was shocked, but what he couldn't believe was that the cops drove him right up to the entrance of the lair.
"Get out of the car old man and don't do crazy things again, because next time the coffee your son gives us won't save you."
Franco got out of the car in silence, he felt really dejected inside. He entered the den as if it was devouring him alive. In the end David was right, no matter the coin, even if it is gold or coffee, everyone's dignity has a price.
