Another vaguely disappointed customer walked out of L&L Pawn in Donegan Hills, a few dollars richer but several possessions lighter. One of the proprietors, Clayton Lewis, picked up a box and took it into the back office. He set it on the desk in front of his business partner, Fred Lewis (no relation), who was on his lunch break.
"Frederick? What do you make of these items?" Clayton asked. He spoke the way he dressed--precise, one might say fussy...but completely lacking in flash.
"I dunno, Clay. Lemme take a look," Fred said around a mouthful of shrimp and rice. There were one or two stains on the napkin he had tucked in his collar, which he pulled out and set on the desk. The sleeves on his electric blue shirt were rolled up, and his black tie hung loose around his neck.
Clayton scowled. "Don't call me Clay."
"Don't call me Frederick." Fred Lewis set down his carton of Kung Pao Ming Har and looked into the box. He grabbed items randomly, took a quick glance at them, then tossed most of them in random directions.
"We can get a couple bucks each for most of this stuff...this Cowboy action figure might be something if it still had the guns. Eight bucks otherwise. How much did you pay for all this?"
"Fifty," Clayton answered.
"Eh. I guess we can make a little profit. Where did you start?"
"Fifty."
"Dammit, Clay. How many times I have to tell you--lowball 'em to start, and then haggle."
"It wastes time. It was going to cost fifty dollars, so that's what I offered."
Fred shook his head. "If you let them talk you up, they feel a little better, and then--whoa!" His eyes went wide as he grabbed a handful of sports cards. He flipped through them quickly--some of them went back in the box, others went on the floor--until he found the one that had caught his attention. He had a smile on his face and dollar signs in his eyes when he showed it to Clayton.
"You know I don't watch basketball," Clayton said. "Who is Colin Nemitz?"
"I don't know," Fred said. "But his card's worth ten grand."
No comments:
Post a Comment