Dealer

Spee · 2004-08-29, 09:29 PM

I'd like to think of myself as a dealer in...Culture. For very little profit, I watch as my product floods the market, bringing one smile after another to the individuals who partake in the act of indulging on what i specialize in.

The product, of which I speak, comes from many places � Germany, Britain, Austria, Russia, even here in the States, though, product acquiesced here has a much lower quality than those vendors I find overseas. The highest-quality product, from my experience, comes from Germany. They make the best, and this is not my opinion � It's a general consensus amongst my client�le.

Allow me to explain a situation, which led me to become involved in the buying and selling, primarily buying, of what I deal.

2 or 3 years ago, I found a certain something on the Internet, which piqued my interest. I was searching for a product similar to the one I currently deal, however, this one appeals to a different set of senses. I stumbled across this...Interesting...Find, and proceeded to sample it. It was very nice, one of the better things I have managed to find. I immediately tried it out amongst my few clients who were into a more exotic kick, and they instantly picked up on it, finding it to be extremely appealing.

So, I delved deeper into the hole of deals and exotic products, finding a legion of different tastes in product � Innumerable qualities in even the smallest dosage. I discovered a subculture, and embraced it. I showed my friends, and my clients to this subculture. They, too, embraced it. It wasn't long before a good majority of the group I hung around with started developing their own unique tastes in product, and, thanks to me, developed their own style.

More time passed. More product went through me and my friends. I had even become to grow elitist in my tastes, the few fellows I had come into over Internet dealings, allowed me to turn simple commentary into heated debate. Which producer had a notoriously higher quality product. Bashing on those producers that failed to put forth a good product, and chattering like schoolgirls over the hype presented by the promise of a new, better product.

There are websites dedicated entirely to my craft, and the product I deal. Thousands upon thousands of samples, from each producer. I daily sift through them, finding what I like, and dismissing what I don't. The addiction I had come into began to seep into my daily life. I would buy T-shirts with my favorite producer on them. As I write this paper, here, in my bedroom, I'm currently imbibing on what I love above all.

And, dear reader, have you figured out my occupation? What I do, to please others? Ive given a few, very subtle hints, but thats it. Are you at a loss? Well then, I'll give you a few more hints.

My places of dealership are not in dark alleys, but in bright stores. The product comes shrink-wrapped, and prepackaged. My addiction costs a large sum of money...For a teenager. Pittance for an adult. It is something that you can enjoy everywhere, anytime. You use it, believe it or not, on a daily basis. Law enforcement officers, judges, priests, City Council members, all have been noted to be addicted to the product that I deal.

Have you figured out what I do, yet? If not, then I apologize. I'm not going to tell you. That ruins the mystery, and that is the spice of life.

AztecWarrior · 2004-08-29, 09:31 PM

I know what it is. I won't spoil it this early, though.

EDIT: I was wrong. The answer is *not* BEER.

Apparently something that fits every single clue is wrong because it's not what he was thinking.

Spee · 2004-08-29, 09:35 PM

Originally Posted by AztecWarrior

I know what it is. I won't spoil it this early, though.

EDIT: I was wrong. The answer is *not* BEER.

Apparently something that fits every single clue is wrong because it's not what he was thinking.

I wrote this. my continuity is flawless. The entire paper is constructed around guising the identity of the object.

Behold my Essay, ye mortals, and Despair.