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On The Market

Posted on February 17, 2007
Filed Under The Stories |

“I am in the market for a property,” he said to me with a knowing smile. Unfortunately I didn’t share his knowledge. My expression must have clarified this because he hastened to explain. “We’re looking to invest in a couple of domains and we thought you might have something of interest for us.”

I saw one man, where did ‘we’ come in? And why did ‘they’ think I was the person to see?

There I was, seated in the food court of a shopping mall that specialized in unnecessities that overweight matrons bought by the bagful, possibly for the singular purpose of delivering heartburn to their husbands with the arrival of the monthly credit card bill. I happened to be there because the place had a decent bookstore and the food was affordable. I didn’t know the man who had taken a seat beside me and I did not have a ‘for sale’ sign on my t-shirt. There was actually no text on it at all.

If he hadn’t asked my name before launching into his string of cryptic pearls I might have been tempted to warn him that he was striking up a conversation with the wrong person. He seemed amused by my confusion though and decided to lift the fog by placing a vaguely familiar-looking piece of paper before me. I say vaguely familiar because it was a cheque and there used to be a time when I got them pretty frequently. I say vaguely familiar because getting those cheques had meant that I could buy things like books and music and clothes and food, often in that exact order. The cheque bore my name, not just my first name so that I could cling to the notion that he had the wrong person, but the whole thing, name, surname and middle initial. And the number was not something to sneeze at either. I hadn’t seen that many zeroes with a relevant number before them in a while, especially not on my bank statement. So I took a moment to think and then I smiled at him and said, “exactly what space are you seeking a property in?”

He seemed pleased that we were finally making headway. He didn’t take the cheque away and I didn’t take my eyes off it. I didn’t even look at him when he responded, “Oh we’re quite flexible. It appears that the sports-related space is opening up but we are open to the movies or even the adventure space.”

“And what medium are we taking about.”

“Oh we would like to take the saturation approach. Television, the web, mobile, print and possibly radio.”

“What about the big screen?”

“We might even consider cinemas if the property looks capable of drawing and sustaining an audience. It would make the home and satellite markets very attractive.”

“I’ll need some time.”

“We’ll take whatever you have.”

“At what price?”

He looked pointedly at the cheque and smiled.

“Per property?”

He seemed genuinely confused, “of course!”

I needed to inhale to ensure that I was awake. I did and I was and trying desperately to think as fast as I could, “okay here’s the deal. There is a woman and she needs to find out if the man she is about to marry is truly as fantastic as she thinks he is…”

Forty-five minute later he was on his way, satisfied that he’d purchased a steal. I was required to go by the office and sign the necessary documents that would grant his company the rights to produce the project. I, in the meantime, could deposit my cheque right away. By the time my girlfriend arrived, forty-five minutes late of course, I could afford a far fancier meal for us than I had been contemplating when I sat down to wait for her.

Maybe tomorrow I can skip college and pretend to be a fireman…

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