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    Time To Trade In One Slightly Used Mom

    | Terrace, BC, Canada |

    Customer: “Is this flea market going well for you?”

    Me: “Decently… considering how many other tables here, I’m glad for the business we’ve gotten.”

    Customer: “You can sell just about anything here, right?”

    Me: “Mmhmm.”

    Customer: “If I give you twenty bucks, will you please sell my children?”

    Me: “Well…um. I’m sorry, but no.”

    Customer: “Please?”

    Me: “I’m sorry. Selling your children would be slavery.”

    Customer: “Okay. So, can I buy this?” *holds up a cheap ring*

    Me: “Sure. That’ll be–”

    Customer: “I’ll give you my daughter for it!”

    Me: “No. You know what? If I give you the ring, will you go away?”

    Customer: *goes away with her children and the cheap ring*

    More Than He Bargained For

    , | Middletown, NY, USA |

    (My father is manning tables at the local flea market. A man comes up to the table and picks out an item that’s priced at $8.)

    Customer: “Will you take $6 for this?”

    Dad: “Sure.”

    (The man finds another item, this one priced at $5.)

    Customer: “Will you take $4?”

    Dad: “Sure.”

    (After a while, the man finds another item, this time priced at $6.)

    Customer: “$5?”

    Dad: “Sure.”

    (Finally, the man gathers all of his items together and winds up for the ultimate bargaining ploy.)

    Customer: “How about $20 for all three?”

    Dad: “Sure.”

    (Dad was always an agreeable sort.)