Thirteen: The Stock Trader S1E4

So 25 bucks for a wallet. I like where this is going.

I walk up to Will the next moring, and I show him the cash and i ask him to tell me what I should do.

“Invest” .

Ive been living my Chicago life in a stock trading center, and Ive studied how it works.

Bell rings. Flashing stock prices. Deals being struck every moment.

But there is no hell im investing in a comoany and risking no return. He tells me that I don’t really need to go to a stock hub. When he meant invest, he meant in something- anything.

He looks at the sticker sheet in my left hand.

“Those stickers look damn nice. Surprisingly elegent if you asked me”.

I thank him and tell him that may have just been the reason why I got the bucks.

He asks me how I did it. So I tell him about the worn wallet and hiw it can represent a subjective dtory rather than a brand.

He says that by putting a brand on subjective stories, I essentially have created a brand that can have multiple cool stories- because that’s what that wallet would be for. To create a story.

I intsntly come up with an idea.

I bold out of the cafe.

I run as fast as I can, my feet punding the Chicago floor, my face cold with the brisky wind. I rin into that same wallet store and ask for a watch for 20 dollars or less. Oh and it has to be without a brand sticker.

He hands me a all-back, fabric belted, minimalist watch. I buy it with $1 left in my pocket.

I run back to the cafe in hooes that Will might have a microfiber cloth. Luckily, he does.

So I take out the cool, smooth, metal-finished wach out of my pocket, and begin to clean it up woth the microfiber cloth. I do that for about 20 minutes. Then I move onto the brand, takingione of the knives of the cafe, and searing it through the fresh-scented felt band of the watch.

As the scratches form and the colors fade, the watch looks far older thanint was just 25 minutes ago.

Will says it looks like we put it through anindustrual-age steel shredder that broke 5 minutes intorthe process.

Just good enough to be solid, yet antique.

I stickta whitesticketr on there and use themicrofiber cloth to blend it into the body of the watch.

I run outside and pitch the watch for a good hour. I pjtch how the watch is made to tell a story. How you got it. What the word “Twelve” means to you. How you can open uo a conversation of what midnight is like for you. Or your peculiar intrest in mesurements.

Then, a a hooded man in a worn-out,beige trench coat, and dark-black boots that look like they were bought in the last five minutes offers me $65 bucks for the watch.

I sell it.

That was crazy.


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