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Rated: E · Short Story · Relationship · #1196787
Selling a valueable item
The Marketplace

I’m standing in the marketplace. I have a good location, lots of traffic. Many come by, but most just keep on walking. Their agenda already set in their mind and their destination sure. On occasion, some will pause, just long enough to make eye contact. I watch them, hopeful that they will stop and look at my valuable product. I have a good product. It’s reliable and low maintenance, and if only they’d look, they’d see. Sadly, I watch as what little interest they had quickly fades and rejection and disinterest takes its place.

Day after day, again and again, throughout the seasons the same show keeps repeating itself. I am here in the stifling summer heat, the only comfort coming from a small electric fan. I am here through the bitter cold winters, shivering silently, trying my best to not look pathetic to the passersby.

I don’t understand why they don’t like my product. They just keep walking by, not even bothering to stop long enough to tell me exactly what it is lacking. One cursory glance and they move on. I wish I could figure out what they want. It’s so confusing.

I see other vendors with similar items of much lesser value at way higher prices being snatched up like exclusive limited editions. I know full well that the product they just bought will only last for a short time only to fail, and then be discarded. They either don’t know what disappointment lies ahead for them, or they simply don’t care. They will return again, some sooner, some later, in search of another cheap, but overpriced replacement. If only they’d bought my product, they would never have to replace it, as it comes with a lifetime warranty, if they’d only stop long enough to find that out.

On occasion, someone does take time to approach my table, but I can see their unspoken intention in their eyes. They’re not interested in buying; they just want to see what I have in order to try to duplicate it themselves. I don’t give these people my attention. Oh, I’ll keep my eye on them to make sure they don’t try to steal from me, but I won’t try any sales pitches on them. They can look all they want, but they will never know the inner workings to my product. That information is reserved for only the owner.

Another breed of customer stops by on occasion. I call these folks the “feel and touch window shoppers”. They never intend to buy, but they will want to touch my product, rubbing their dirty grubby hands all over it, then putting it down to only walk away, leaving me to clean up the mess they left behind. I consider these individuals very selfish. They have no regard for the product and it’s quality. Furthermore, they appear to believe that it’s ok to soil someone else’s property and then walk away. They have no sense of integrity or responsibility. Worst of all, they are an uneducated people who do not realize quality even when it’s in their own dirty hands. I learned this lesson early on at the marketplace, and now I am very cautious as to who I let touch my product.

I had a couple of “regulars” a while back. The same folks would keep coming by, making idle chatter as they looked at my product, but they would never buy. I wondered why they did that. Perhaps they thought that if they kept coming by that eventually I would simply give them my product free of charge. I guess they figured out that wouldn’t happen, because eventually they stopped coming around at all.

I have a good product. I know that. I also know all about the importance of timing. Much time has passed and the odds are now in my favor. Very soon, someone will approach me, and in viewing my product they will discover that it’s exactly what they’ve wanted and what they have been searching for and needing, only never finding until now. It will happen, I know it will. I just have to be patient. One day, the stars will all line up in perfect order with the universe and it will be wonderful. My job is to be ready for that moment.

Look, someone’s coming! They like what they see.

My product?
It is my heart.

1/1/07
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