Handless Sales
“Are you going to buy anything, or just stand there starin’ at the wall?”
“Hm? Ah, in a hurry, I see. Forgive me for pointing it out, but I am the only customer in this store.”
“It’s a busy street: somebody’ll walk in”
“Yet no one has the entire time I have been in here.”
“I’m sorry, do you wanna’ buy somethin’?”
“I’m curious, of all the things you could sell, why tea and spices?”
“There’s always a market for that.”
“Apparently not. Would it be presumptuous for me to assume that I am the only market all day? It is a nice store, though.”
“Hm.”
“Tell me, are you Stanson, or Harris?”
“Say again?”
“Your sign out front: it says ‘Tea and Kitchen Supply Co. Stanson and Harris.’ Which one are you? Stanson, I presume?”
“Harris. Stanson died two years ago this month.”
“Hm, how unfortunate.”
“I’ll say - he was better at running the business than I am. If I can’t make another payment this quarter, that’s the last of this place.”
“What a pity.”
“Where are you from?”
“Hm? Sorry, I was admiring this jar of tea - it looks pretty, as if it were ceramic. I am from nowhere important. The Duchy of Ivanshtine, if you must know. You heard of it? No? It’s a few week’s journey from here. Small country, but a pretty one.”
“This your first time in Agranda?”
“Yes, frankly, I do not admire how many wars you get yourselves into, but I do like your cities.”
“What is it you do exactly?”
“Ah, I am the head baron within Ivanshtine, magistrate of the high court of the duke.”
“Uh, I’m sorry I asked. Are you goin’ to buy anything?”
“I don’t think so...Actually, I will, if you can do one thing for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Open this jar of tea, ok? But do it without using your hands.”
“That’s an easy riddle. You just ask the other person to open it for you - you don’t use your hands by doing that.”
“So?”
“So...will you open it for me?”
“I think not.”
“What?! Why not?”
“I don’t want to.”
“But that’s the answer to the riddle! You have to open it.”
“Who said I have to open it: you asked, and I said ‘no.’”
“So how am I supposed to open this?”
“You’ll have to convince me to open it for you.”
“What? Fine, ok, let’s see here…There’s tea inside.”
“So?”
“What’a ya’ mean so?”
“I’ve had lots of tea over the course of my life, so why should I care for the kind that’s in that jar?”
“Eer, it’s very good tea - believe me. I’ve had it myself many times, and it’s really good.”
“I’m sorry, did I hear you say that it is your favorite tea?”
“What? No, it’s not my favorite, but it’s still good.”
“Hm, what a shame. I’d probably open it, even buy it, if it was your favorite.”
“Ok, then it’s my favorite.”
“Hm. Seems intriguing, but what more does it offer?”
“Uhhh, it comes from the lower mountains of Southern Agranda, very rare in flavor, and quite favorable in strength.”
“Well, in that case, I’ll purchase two jars. It's open.”
“Really?”
“Of course: it sounds like I’d be missing out if I did not take some.”
“Alright, then. Will that be all?”
“Keep the change. Actually, I think I want that wooden stirring spoon.”
“Huh. Grab it without using your hands.”
“Very risible, my friend, but you are the one profiting from the sale, so I shall indeed grab it without my hands: would you please grab it for me?”
“Uh, right. Here ya’ go. Anything else?”
“Nope. Have a wonderful day.”
“Sure thing.”
(Hours later, a new customer enters)
“Hey, are you going to buy anything, or just- I mean...I really think you would like this tea, it’s my personal favorite…”