"Depends on what you're looking for. I've got three kinds." His hands are dirty and he gestures too much while he talks. "You're not from around here are you?"
"How can you tell?" I ask, but I already know the answer. I'm wearing pants.
"You're wearing pants," he says, and points to my Dockers.
"Yeah, well, it's a custom where I'm from. I hope it doesn't offend you?"
"No, it's not offending me, it's just making you look like a damned fool is all."
"Okay. Sorry." I point to the middle of the three under glass.
"Don't you go apologizing to me about it," he says, as he takes it out of the case and lays it on the counter in front of me. "Just don't be surprised if people give you a hard time around town."
"Fair enough." I look it over. It's in good condition—great actually. "Does it still work?"
"Of course! I only sell working stuff."
"Okay. How much you want for this?"
"Well, since you're from out of town and all, I'm gonna have to charge you a little more. You know, to keep up appearances."
"Right, I understand. How much?"
"Tell you what—give me two hundred."
"Done," I say and take out a wad of twenties. I count off ten and toss them on the counter, pick up my purchase and head toward the door. When I open it, the bell above the jamb jingles and I turn. "Thanks, old timer."
"You're welcome. You be careful with that thing."
"I will," I reply and head out into the sun.