On holidays, there was not much time for preparations, we had to stay at the work place, that?s what the regime demanded. Still, one had to have something to celebrate Easter, so we went out shopping now and again. So one year, as I was standing in a huge line for eggs ? that is, for my ration of eggs, for it was rations time ? some guy, after waiting for ages in the line, got to the counter and the saleswoman put his eggs in one of those big plastic bags ? dame Leana?s invention. The poor devil took the bag and went out and as he went out the bag broke and so did all the eggs. And the man burst out, blast the polymers and screw the bitch that ever invented them, and the like. The militia officer nearby was standing and watching, and my guess is he inwardly thought the same, but could say nothing, since he was part of the regime. (O. S., 169)

One painter who had his workshop in the Amzei Plaza, once needed an egg for his emulsion. He went out and stood in a huge line, under the pouring rain. After one or two hours, he reached the counter and asked the shop assistant for one egg. Confused, she took it as an offense: ?Are you saying you?ve come for one egg when all these people are standing here hours on end?? The others got angry too and kicked him out of the shop and would not let him buy that one egg he needed. (7)

We did stand in lines, indeed, the whole family came, but it was fun, too. I was very young, and to keep me from other people tramping on my feet, father would hold me up in his arms. Anyway, we got our share of everything. This is the truth. At least as far as I am concerned. Pastrami, sirloin, fillet, chicken, etc. You had to search the shops and stand in lines.

Our advantage was that we had a big family, and well located: my aunt and uncle lived in the 1^st district, we lived in the 4^th, grandma in the 5^th, and so on. Each with their ration. There were, of course, strategic selling points where you could find such wonders, and there were special moments? we would ring up each other whenever we heard there was something on sale, and everybody went so that all rations put together could mount up to some lasting supply for the whole family. Things were all right for me, then.

We stood in lines, but it was fun; I mean my folks could turn every seemingly dreadful moment into an adventure, into something interesting. I was happy when father finally came home after months of working away at some new construction. The poor man, no sooner did he come home than he had to go out and stand in a line? so these lines were actually like reunion moments for us, when the whole family was present. In lines, people were telling jokes, the old women were knitting?