Bibbey's Bargains

 There's no question about it, Bibbey's Shell Shop is the thing Freestone looks forward to all year.  Last year, he had a little obsession with some glass-blown turtles.  He finally chose one, purchased it, and then it broke its tiny flipper.  Ruby can't stand tragedy, and sneaked back to Bibbey's to get Freestone another turtle, for which he was grateful.  He wiped his eyes and was able to go on.  Both the broken turtle and the Redemption Turtle still have an honored place in his glass figure collection.

  This year, Free had his wallet and had somehow saved up $25.00, all of which he planned to spend on rocks and seashells.  Every day, Free browsed the crowded shelves and baskets of rare and common rocks, crystals, shells and fossils, and finally settled on a small, unremarkable ten-dollar ball of pinkish crystal. 

I hate to crush dreams, but come on.  Ten bucks?  For three, he could have gotten a purple glow-in-the-dark crystal unicorn.  So for ten bucks, I tried to tell him, he could walk out with a phosphorescent unicorn AND a whole basket of shells AND a small starfish.  Unfortunately, reason can't touch Freestone when he knows what he wants, so there were furtive tears and sulky glances, which the shopkeeper picked up on.  He whispered to me, "I'm going to make him a deal."

He made his way over to the display where Freestone was pining in front of the ten-dollar crystal.

"Hey, buddy.  You want that?  How much do you have to spend?"

"Twenty-five dollars."

pause

"How about I give you a deal.  I'll let you have it for seven."

"But I have twenty-five."

The poor shopkeeper.  Dickering usually doesn't go like this, and he was faltering.  So I jumped in and said, "His mom said he could only spend five, but I think we can make seven work."

And because Freestone is Freestone, he reiterated, "But I have twenty-five."

I got him out of the store, crystal in hand, before he bargained the guy any higher.  Remind us not to take Freestone in any Turkish rug shops.