Everyone in Motovun knows Miro Kopčalić as a miser. Truth to tell, there is much that is wonderful about him, too, but the reputation goes rather well with his wealth. On top of his several houses around Istria, each one of which is worth a mint, a short while ago he bought a sailing boat, too. The last time he was in town, for he had moved to Tar close to Poreč more than a year ago, he had a bet of some kind with Jozo Brandić. And he lost an amount that was far from insignificant. As soon as Jozo got hold of the money, he gave a half of it to Karen Hrvatin, a waitress at Klaudio’s, and asked her to charge all the drinks ordered by people from Motovun for as long as the money lasted on account of Miro’s new toy. In these parts, every bit of good luck is thus customarily shared with friends and acquaintances so as not to break the spell. Of course, the fact that it was Jozo rather than Miro who had paid for the drinks only adds to Miro’s image as a consummate miser. Although I appreciate Jozo’s clever ploy, which Miro undoubtedly deserves, I am afraid Miro will now be visiting Motovun even less often than before. As I said, there is much that is wonderful about him, too. Given the circumstances, even his miserliness will be forgotten.

Addendum (June 14, 2007)

When I let Miro know that he was buying drinks for everyone at Klaudio’s in his absence, he was not entirely pleased. “Enjoy, assholes,” he said. And then he added half in jest: “You could’ve waited for me to join you!” True to himself, all he could think about was recouping some of his losses. So much for my silly worries, though.