The owner tossed his pad and pencil back onto the counter.
“Honestly? Not so hot. My main supplier for this junk just raised his prices . . . something about a new union in his factory. I either gotta raise my prices, which won’t help, since this stuff is hard enough to move as it is, or go out of business, which I’ve seriously been considering.”
I thought it would be best not to comment on the union he’d mentioned.
“You don’t think a new location would help?”
“New location … big deal! This is the Bazaar at Deva, lady. One row of shops is like any other for pedestrian traffic. On any one of those rows you can find better stuff than I got to sell.”
This was turnin’ out ta be even better than I had hoped.
“Just suppose,” I said, “just suppose the new location was in a hotel, and suppose that hotel had a casino and disco. That would give you a captive clientele, since nobody wants ta leave the building and wander around to find somethin’ they can buy right where they are.”
“A hotel and casino, eh? I dunno, though. Junk is still junk.”
“Not if you had an exclusive to print the name of the place on everythin’ you sell. Junk with a name on it is souvenirs, and folks expect ta pay more for them. Right?”
The proprietor was startin’ ta get excited.
“That’s right! You got a place like this, lady? How much ya asking for rent?”
“Minimal, with a piece of the action goin’ ta the house. How does that sound?”
“How much floor space do you have available? If I can expand, I can get a volume discount from my supplier and still raise my prices. Say, do you have a printer lined up yet?”