The Nut Man

The Nut Man

Here in this small former fishing village on the Cote d'Azur lives the "nut man". I use this term "nut man" as a term of endearment to describe this man who appears to make his living selling nuts. These are what we would call pralines, they are coated with a sugar and spice mixture and are actually quite tasty. The nut man sells his wares to the tourists that pack the small cafés that front the harbor of this small village. The nut man knows all of the staff in the cafés and all the regulars that show up at the same café daily. He even remembers us from year to year. The nut man is by most standards a good looking man and he positively oozes charm. He moves from table to table passing out free sample nuts to those he hopes to will buy a bag or two. He also passes out the nuts to the regulars; I have even seen some go up and ask for one.

When the nut man is working, he can be all business as he moves quickly thru the cafés passing out samples and circling back to see who wants to buy. He is the consummate professional selecting nuts from his tray with tongs to lay in front of the potential customer. The bags of nuts are artfully arranged on the metal platter that he carries with one hand lifted high like a waiter; you can only imagine that this would build incredible upper body strength. I always liked the nut man, you like him the first time he hits you up with the sample nut in the hopes of selling you a bag. We buy a bag from time to time because they are really good and who wouldn't want to support a man that can make a living selling nuts to tourists sitting in sunny seaside cafés.

From time to time he takes a break and stashes his tray full of nuts at the bar of our favorite café. This frees him up to have a seat with some of the regulars. It seems, not surprisingly, that the nut man is good with the ladies. He is always sitting with some ladies while others often stop and give him the quintessentially French greeting of kisses on both cheeks lingering maybe just a wee bit longer than typical.

One day when we were sitting in the café an older woman with a walker aided by what appeared to be her daughter, walked by. Just in front of the café the woman appeared to have some mild sort of tremors and started to fall. Her daughter had a hold of one arm, I got to her and got the other arm to try to keep her from falling; Kevin was trapped behind some tables and chairs and could not make it to her. Out of nowhere the nut man appeared at the woman's side. She was starting to slip to the ground because the daughter and I could not support her. The nut man steppped squarely behind her, put his arms under her arms and clasped his hands in front of her chest and lifted her straight up to her feet. The tremors seemed to have passed and she was able to walk on. I was touched by his aide to this woman providing the assistance she needed while still maintaining her dignity.

Yeah I always adored the nut man, now I adore him even more.
A bientot,
Cousin Sandy