A story to think about your true ideal of happiness

Who wouldn’t love to have happiness created by a top-notch designer? The protagonist of the tale by Vladislav Scripach had the opportunity to go to a store where happiness is sold at a reasonable price. It includes everything trendy and necessary: ​​a great apartment, a beautiful wife, an extra complement in the form of a child, and much more. But what’s missing?

Today the incredible.club wants you to enter the shop where happiness for all tastes is sold. Read carefully and rethink some decisions in your life, like our protagonist.

“Yes… Hmm… Is it possible?” replied the man with a doubtful face.

– Clear! Of course yes. Which one do you want?

“Well…I don’t know…Like everyone else’s, I guess.

“An excellent choice!” she said cheerfully. Come on, we have something to offer you. We have the best happiness from one of the greatest happiness designers in the world. Please look here: one of the most requested models, in beige tones – the young woman indicated a screen where there were bright images.

— An apartment in a quiet residential area, super affordable financing. A beautiful wife: blonde, tall, size S clothing. A sphynx kitten: not much hair and no allergies. A car, obviously. No, one for you and one for your wife. An interesting addition, which can be a child. Well, do you want to take it?

“Hmm… Well… I’m not very fond of cats.” Also, a sphynx is that ugly type… Well, I don’t know, I don’t think it’s for me. Can I have a dog? A German Shepherd. Or a stray. One of those really smart ones.

The young woman made a face she didn’t like.

“A mutt?” But this is in bad taste. Husky, malamute, labrador…a golden! There are so many beautiful and popular breeds!

– And even? Popular? Well… And the wife, can she not be blonde?

– Of course you can! — with a wave of her hands, the young woman began to scroll through pictures of beautiful women, redheads and brunettes. They all looked the same, as if the same thin woman with thin eyebrows and thin lips had simply put on a wig. — We have all models and for all tastes.

“I don’t think so for everyone… I wish she had more body.” For example, I like Lucia, in the building opposite. She is so…

– What are you saying? What Lucia? Lucia is obese! And she measures 1.58 meters. She has skin problems, she’s full of freckles. Women like Lucia, excuse the expression, are not the result of a beautiful designer. They were never in fashion, and they never will be!

– But…

– Not much”. Did you come in search of happiness or did you just come for a walk?

“For happiness…” sighed the man.

“Well, here she is!” Popular, stylish, designer happiness.

— So… Not Lucia?

– No. And even less with that name. Isabella, Catarina, Erika with ‘K’. She needs something sonorous, bright, fashionable.

“Well, if it has to be Isabella, let it be Isabella,” said the man, resigned.

– What exactly? The young woman crossed her arms in a menacing tone.

— Let’s see… Maybe it’s not so popular, but… I’ve always dreamed of having a house in a village. Plant strawberries. And paint pictures of strawberries. It’s all quiet, peaceful. At the end of the afternoon I pick the strawberries and give them to Lucia. She makes some pancakes out of them. And the others I put in a basket list. She sits down next to me, smiling. At her feet sits a shaggy dog ​​named Chuva, of unknown breed, but kind and very intelligent. And there I am, painting this idyllic scene.

– AND? asked the woman coldly and haughtily.

“And then, in the evening, we sat down to tea,” he went on. All around, the walls are full of paintings. My frames. And my son asks: “Who painted these beautiful pictures?” And my wife replies: “Your father. He painted it all. Want a portrait of him?”

– AND…? asked the young woman in an almost icy tone.

– And that’s all. The happiness.

The man looked at her angry face and flinched.

— What happiness? Is this happiness? You are crazy? Do you want to spend your life on this? In this misery? I would even understand if you mentioned a retro style, an old mansion in a French village, Picasso paintings and vineyards. But strawberries…” the young woman made a face as if she were talking about lemons and not strawberries; in fact, as if she were eating them. — Lucia? Furry dog? How horrible! Get these ideas out of your head, this is in bad taste!

– But…

“Just think: what would people say about you? Huh? Think: how much money will you earn? What kind of business includes pictures and strawberries? Will you be able to support Isabella? She needs a fur coat and diamond jewelry.

“But Lucia…

“We’ve already decided that nothing about Lucia!” And how do you intend to pay Lord’s vet?

“What lord?”

“Do you think a purebred dog can be called ‘Rain’?”

– Good…

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Happiness must be perfect. Otherwise you cannot be happy.

— But why is it impossible to have a house in a village? And strawberries…” and the man almost started to cry.

“You don’t trust our taste?” Only professionals work here. The most popular happiness designers. And these guys know what you need. They will make you happy.

“But how is that possible?”

Two people passed by: a satisfied customer and a salesperson.

“An excellent choice,” the young man smiled.

– Yes I know! I am really happy! said the woman pressing a box to her chest. — At last I will have happiness, like everyone else’s. A very popular, fashionable one. From a famous designer. An apartment in the city center. A financial director husband. A car…

– It saw? said the young woman. – She is happy. And all because she did not make any strange requests with dubious tastes. She trusted our designers.

– And for what? Nobody ever does that.

– Please. I really want.

The woman shrugged her shoulders, sighed and walked to the exit, her high heels clicking on the floor. The man followed. He imagined the designer as a delicate young man, dyed hair, a colorful scarf, ripped jeans. But in the small room where the saleswoman took him there was a dark, unshaven fellow wearing black. His glasses were drooping over his nose and his feet, wrapped in two slippers, were on the table. Dirty from head to toe, he was molding something out of clay. The table was full of models, unfinished drawings, pieces of wood, nails, pictures, and all kinds of rubbish that our young man could not identify.

The customer entered and the young woman closed the door behind him, leaving him alone with the designer.

“So you’re the designer of happiness?” asked the surprised young man.

“That’s right,” replied the bored-faced man, not taking his eyes off the computer.

“So you’re the one who makes up all this nonsense, too?”

– Which?

“Well, those blondes and labs and mortgages and vines and beige?

– Because you do not like?

– No. I just want to know why it can’t be Lucia. And strawberries? Huh?

The designer dropped some clay and looked at the man with deep, dark eyes.

— Tell me something, João — the designer called the young man by name — who buys your shoes? Your mother? And when she buys it, is she the one who tries it on?

“Of course not,” answered Joao, surprised. “She’s a size 8, I’m a size 4. How could she prove it?”

“And they’re just shoes. Happiness, as you know, is an individual thing. Maybe even intimate. And what did you order? “Happiness like everyone else’s”. And that’s what we offer. A happiness like that of others.

— But… It’s designer, it’s fashionable. It’s popular.

– That’s right. Popular! says the designer.

“And you develop it!”

– No I do not do that.

“How not?” — João no longer understood absolutely nothing. “But then who?”

— It’s popular, it’s a printer that prints. They just say it’s from a designer.

– Wait! So you deceive us?

– That’s right. What’s wrong with fooling ordinary people, idiots?

“I’m not an idiot!” John got angry.

— If you’re not an idiot, then you should know that the words “like everyone else’s”, “fashionable” and “popular” don’t go well with the concept of happiness.

“But then what are you doing here?” John pointed to a piece of clay.

– The happiness.

– From who?

“Like whose?” Your? None of that. My happiness! Understand one thing, João, everyone is the designer of their own happiness. If you cannot understand this, then take the “happiness like everyone else’s”, which is fashionable and popular. What we sell here.

And then the designer smiled and dove back into his work.

What did you think of this story? What kind of happiness would you ask for if given the opportunity?