George Starts A Flea Market

George was always eager to try new business ventures in the hope of making some money, but he had absolutely no concept of thinking things through, and his ideas crashed and burned time and time again. He was unstoppable, though. He would just wake up the next day with a smile and a whistle and try something else.

One day, a former watercraft sales lot went up for rent. The property was filled with towers of weathered pallets and strewn with trash and old rusted boat motors. The old faded electric sign had been gutted by copper thieves and had wires hanging out everywhere. The small building was a plain cinder block box with a few odd windows patched in.

Of greater concern was its poor location and accessibility. While it was visible along the busy highway north of town, it sat along a spur road with no signs directing drivers on how to reach it. For those that did manage to find the way in, they had to make a tight turn down a steep drop-off of loose dirt and gravel. It was a hazard to motorcycles and long trucks or anyone hauling a trailer with, say, a boat. Why anyone ever decided to commercialize the site remained one of the many wonders of Bonner County.

Out of idle curiosity, Eva called on the building first. She had toyed with the idea of opening a gun shop. The owner said the rent had been reduced to only $500 a month. The building had been vacant for over two years because nobody was interested – probably because they couldn’t even get to it.

Eva mentioned it to George over breakfast one morning. “Five hundred dollars?!” he exclaimed, his face lighting up with wonderment. “Think of all the possibilities! Why, a fella could open his own store or one of them little coffee places!”

Copyright © 2019 J.J. West. Fiddlesticks! Tales From A Country Ghetto.
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