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I rolled my eyes the second I saw him making a beeline for the counter. Not again. Over the past few weeks, this guy has come in many times, each time attempting to orchestrate a trade, offering some random piece of junk in exchange for snacks. So far no one has taken up on the offer except for Jerry who had traded a large soda, two candy bars, and an entire box of mini donuts for a porcelain doll about the size, shape, and general temperament of a malnourished six-year-old. And much like a malnourished six-year-old, it cried if you locked it in a supply closet all alone, so I had insisted Jerry take it home so the sound didn’t bother customers, or get the cops called… again.
The doll (which Jerry had named Alphonse) was one of the best trade offers the strange man had offered so I wasn’t particularly upset when Jerry explained to me what it was and why it was on the counter. Still haunted dolls are not legal tender and I reminded Jerry of this who had just lifted Alphonse up till I was forced to look it in the eyes and asked “How could you say no to this wittle face?”
I made sure the new no-bartering sign was clearly visible on the counter as the man approached.
“Say Jack, how much for one of your fine hot dogs over there?” The man said the words ‘hot dogs’ slowly as though he was worried about miss pronouncing it.
“Look,” I said, not bothering to be subtle, I knew his deal by now “We both know you don’t have any money and I don’t take trades. So unless you’ve got any actual money with you this time you need to go.”
He didn’t seem at all deterred. “But you haven’t even heard my offer yet.”
“I don’t care,” I said, but it was too late, he had activated salesmen mode and won’t be leaving until he had plead his case. I settled back into my chair to wait out the pitch.
“It’s a very cool rock.”
I waited but he didn’t continue. Oh, okay then. “Thanks but no thanks, get out.”
The man seemed honestly confused that his glowing offer of ‘cool rock’ was not enough to sway me. Unluckily for me, he bounced back from the rejection. “But you haven’t even seen it yet!”
Before I could give him another ‘no thanks’ he started rummaging through his pockets, presumably to retrieve and show off the rock for me. I waited. And waited. He has so many pockets. Seriously like way more than you would expect. He was wearing a three-piece suit that was probably expensive when he bought it twenty years ago but, like him, hadn’t aged well. Yet somehow he made more pockets in his black slacks than a pair of cargo pants. Eventually, after an awkward five minutes and thirty-two seconds of searching (yes I did watch the clock), he yelled “Ah ha” and slammed something down hard on the counter.
It was not a normal rock, in fact, it wasn’t a rock at all but a glass figurine about the size of my palm, maybe a bit smaller. The figurine depicted a dead doe, curled up like she was sleeping and covered in mini roaches that crawled in and out of her skin. It was also incredibly detailed. I could have counted the legs on each of the disgusting bugs.
“Not bad huh,” The man asked.
Oh shit, he saw me staring, gotta play it off “I guess it is a little cool.”
His cocky smile froze and his eyelid visibly twitched. “It’s VERY cool.” He insisted before closing his eyes to take a deep breath. I gave him a moment to compose himself while I examined the doe.
When he opened his eyes back up he was right back into salesman mode, a big grin plastered on his face. “I’d say that’s worth a hot dog, or two.”
I glanced at the rollers, the dogs had been on there a while, at this time of night they would probably go to waste if they didn’t sell soon. He caught my eyes and grinned. “Tell you what, for the price of three hot dogs and a large soda it’s yours.”
“What? No.” I said immediately, what happened to a hot dog or two. “Two,” I told him.
He deflated yet again, “Two of your hot dogs, and the soda?” He asked hopefully.
The doe looked so peaceful, when had I picked it up? And why was it so much heavier than I had expected? “And a small soda” I offered.
He took the deal, leaving the figurine with me and fixing his dogs.
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“Cool rock!’ Jerry announced loudly, picking up the glass doe from beside the register where I had left it.
“Very cool,” I corrected automatically, “and thanks.”
“Damn right it’s very cool,” Jerry said holding it up to the light, the sparkle of it in my periphery was distracting. “Good color, it’s carved weird but the sheer size of it makes up for that.”
I looked up at him from where I was going over the next shipment details. “What are you talking about?”
“What am I talking about? What am I ever talking about? What purpose does talking truly hold in a world so obsessed with action over language?”
Accepting the Jerry nonsense for what it is, I turned back to my paperwork only to be immediately interrupted again.
“Jack,” He said slowly drawing out the word to a completely unnecessary degree, and when I didn’t respond he began. “Jackie baby, sweetheart”
“What?” I interrupted, knowing he could and would keep offering different nicknames and terms of endearment until I answered him.
“What do you think I'm holding?”
What a terrifying question. “What do you think it is?” I asked playing safe.
He strode forward, placing the doe in my hand and holding it closed with both of his. “Well unless someone has been breaking into my bedroom when I’m asleep and putting large gemstones in my hand,” He paused here as if to consider the possibility of such a thing before continuing on “and I don't think anyone has been, then this is the largest diamond I've ever touched.”