Fair Trades
If you give me a line, I’ll give you a line.
If you give me a neutron, I’ll give you a neutron coated with tooth plaque.
If you give me a genuine moon rock, brought back from some long-forgotten Apollo moon mission, I’ll give you a piece of a bumblebee that I found lying on my patio over the summer, and which I’ve been saving in my freezer these past few months, waiting for such an occasion. For obvious reasons of bee security, I can’t tell you what part of a bumblebee it is. You’ll just have to trust me that it will be worth it.
If you give me your compass, I will give you a heading to the nearest hot dog bun manufacturer.
If you give me a hot dog, I will give you a tie.
If you give me bookmark, I will give you a full reading of the latest book from Pondo The Magnificent entitled How to Become an Aztec Without Even Trying.
If you give me a steam-powered GPS device, I will give you an anonymous former governor of Minnesota.
If you give me one of Charlie’s angels, I will give you one of Satan’s lawyers.
If you give me a sieve that’s the right size for sifting chunky toothpaste, I will give you a syllabus for a course on folksy poncho weaving.
If you give me a book on making cookies, I will give you a yummy cookie.
And that’s how we both win this confusing game of trading.