"Achoo~!" Scott rubbed his reddened nose tip and cast a disgusted glance at the gray sky.
Curse this weather! He hated winters in Ohio, and in less than two days, he had already encountered two light snowfalls.
Clutching his coat around him against the biting wind, Scott yearned for the southern sunshine.
Had it not been for that young man who arranged to make the deal today, Scott certainly would not have ventured out in such weather.
After catching a taxi and following the given address, Scott quickly located the Moore Second-hand Shop.
Looking up at the decrepit sign, Scott began to doubt whether that young man named Sean was playing him for a fool.
Or, could he really provide what Scott was looking for? The place was nothing short of a dump.
Carefully sidestepping the clutter at his feet, Scott decided to take a look inside; after all, he was already there.
However, after just two steps, he was blocked by a snow-covered car that had toppled over to one side.
Having no choice, Scott stood at the entrance and called out tentatively.
"Is anybody there?"
"I'm here~" A faint reply came from the back room's workshop.
As Scott looked around, a greasy aproned Roger quickly emerged, gloves in hand.
"Sir, can I help you with something?" Roger tossed his gloves onto a shelf and looked up at Scott standing in the doorway.
"Uh, perhaps I've made a mistake. I'm here to see a man named Sean who said he had a box of telephonic hearing amplifiers for sale."
"Sean?" Roger paused for a moment before it dawned on him. "Oh, yes, that's right, it is here."
It really was this place? Scott grew even more skeptical of Sean's capabilities—it was a far cry from the environment surrounded by precision equipment that he had envisioned.
"Dean... Sean! Your customer is here to pick up the goods~!" Roger called back into the workshop loudly.
"Right away!" After a series of clattering noises, a man dressed much like Roger, Dean, came out holding a cardboard box.
"Mr. Scott, you are punctual," Dean said with a beaming smile as he placed the box on the counter.
That same goofy smile, Scott silently criticized.
"Alright, Sean, is this what I've come for?" Scott pointed at the box in front of him.
"Of course, one of my clients went through great lengths to get these," Dean said as he took out a small black box to show him.
"So, how am I supposed to use it?" Scott had seen the old blue boxes before; he remembered those were supposed to have a dial pad on them.
But this black box in front of him was smooth on all sides except for a cable leading out, cleaner than a mirror.
"Mr. Scott, now, I, Sean—the after-sales engineer for the telephonic hearing amplifier—will demonstrate how to use it.
If you don't mind, could we go to the public phone booth by the door? There's nothing quite as convincing as a hands-on experience."
Glancing at the phone booth by the roadside, Scott nodded agreeably.
He was right, it was only by inspecting the goods himself that he would be reassured.
The two of them braced against the cold wind to the phone booth, where Dean, to Scott's surprise, opened the black box and took out a card.
WTF? He had thought Dean would connect the black box's cable to the payphone; instead, the man went straight for dialing with the card!?
If a card could do the job, what was the black box for?
Under Scott's dubious gaze, Dean quickly punched a series of numbers on the keypad and then handed over the receiver to him.
Bringing the receiver to his ear, Scott was surprised to hear the reminders of monthly timed charges and scrutinized Dean.
Even so, he wasn't reassured until he dialed a number himself and spoke a few words; Scott was then finally without suspicion.
"Mr. Scott, are you satisfied with the telephonic hearing amplifier made just for you? Oh, and to thank you for supporting our product, we've included a gift card with every device.
They are inherently worthless, just an extra, and how to use them is entirely up to you.
As for the telephonic hearing amplifiers, I earnestly advise you to primarily use them with public phones and avoid using them with your office or home landlines.
I also sincerely suggest limiting your monthly usage to under 60 hours, as going over 100 hours poses a great risk of irreversible damage to the device, and in severe cases, could even threaten personal safety.
These are my recommendations for using this device; if you have any questions, feel free to call for consultation."
"Wow~" Scott's eyebrows shot up, this was beyond his expectations.
Dean's first couple of sentences had left him somewhat befuddled, but as he listened, Scott's eyes grew wider.
So... the key was the gift card?
Sixty hours a month; that's 3,600 minutes.
Based on the charges by MCI, long-distance calls cost 84 cents per minute, local calls 11 cents per minute.
As a salesman, it was without doubt that the calls Scott made were mostly long-distance.
By that calculation, he could save nearly 3,000 US dollars a month. Although it would cost 1,500 dollars to buy a set, it was certainly worth it.
Because these cards could be used for a long time, provided no outrageous actions were taken, they were like geese that laid golden eggs!
Thinking of others with similar needs around him, Scott felt his heart warm.
"Sean, how many of these sets of black... uh... telephonic hearing amplifiers do you have?"
"I have eight sets in total, sir. Although others have inquired about similar devices, I haven't sold a single one," replied Dean.
"You did right, Sean, I really like them. I've got a feeling they'll be a huge help to my work. By the way, does each set come with a gift card like this?"
Seeing the other party sneak a glance at the card in his hand, Dean couldn't help but smile, "Of course, Mr. Scott."
Eight sets, each for 1500 US Dollars. It wasn't a small sum, and Scott hesitated.
"Sean, although you've proven they work, I'm not sure I can use them all up within a month.
So I think paying half up front as a deposit is a more reasonable choice."
"No, Mr. Scott." Dean shook his head directly, "Since you've heard of the blue boxes, then you should be clear about their principle.
And if you do that, I can't explain to my customers. Or, you buy one set first, and I'll sell the others to someone else in need?" Saying this, Dean was ready to take back the goods.
"No, no, wait a minute." Scott stopped him, "Sean, will you still be able to produce helpers like this in the future? The kind with gift cards."
"I'll do my best to continue supplying this equipment, but I can't be certain about the timing. It might be six months from now, or even a year.
You know, these devices have very high technical requirements. To ensure their safety, we have to invest a lot of time."
Dean could sell these black boxes in batches to different people, but that was too much trouble and also increased the risk invisibly.
So if possible, he hoped to close the deal in one fell swoop and then wash his hands of it.
Without a doubt, Scott right here was the best choice, being from Texas.
Thinking of these golden geese, missing out once might mean waiting for a year, Scott lost his composure.
For these gift cards, time is money!
Buying them for 1500 US Dollars each, one could easily flip them for 3000 US Dollars to someone else. No, these perennially valuable treasures could fetch five thousand each on the market!
"Deal! Sean, I'll take them at the price you've quoted. I want them all."
"Mr. Scott, you're a straightforward man." At this moment, Dean finally felt this redneck was a bit endearing.
Though the deal was done, Scott still made a point of testing the rest of the gift cards one by one.
During the process, the occasional sly glint in his eye made Dean think he wasn't very redneck at all.
In Dean's imagination, a redneck encountering something they liked was supposed to pull out a gun, point it at his head, and yell, "Take my money!"
Having neatly packed the eight black boxes into a cardboard box, and carefully placed the gift cards into his inner pocket, Scott finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"Now they're yours." Scott took out a bundle wrapped in kraft paper from his bag and handed it to Dean.
As agreed by both parties, the transaction was conducted entirely in cash.
Getting the money, Dean tossed it at Roger without hesitation; such a thick bundle clearly needed a careful count.
Soon after getting a nod from Roger confirming it was all there, Dean reached out and shook hands with Scott.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Scott. Also, please make sure to heed the use suggestions I mentioned earlier."
Dean wasn't joking with him; these time cards could last a long while if used sparingly.
Not to mention, if used reasonably each month, making back the investment was definitely not a problem.
Large companies using these time cards could easily have a few thousand US Dollar fluctuations in their monthly phone bills.
But excessive use could cause a large company's monthly phone bill to skyrocket. In not too long, those access codes would get blocked.
And faced with astronomical bills, many large companies would refuse to pay. They'd rather sue the phone company than pay for the additional charges incurred.
The worst-case scenario would be the phone company using the locations from where the access codes were used to trace back to the source.
That was why Dean emphasized using them on public phones if possible.
Of course, whether Scott listened was his business; Dean's transaction with him was already complete.
"Roger, help me process this money." Unwrapping the kraft paper, Dean shouted to Roger.
"No problem." Roger picked up his invoice book and started writing quickly.
This Moore's Secondhand Shop was owned by Roger's family, specializing in dealing with secondhand machinery, like motorcycles, diesel engines, lawn mowers, and other consumer goods.
Trading Dean's modified phone amplifiers here was suitable, just like what Roger was recording on the invoice.
Eight sets of customer-specified amplifiers, totaling twelve thousand US Dollars.
Look at that, a perfectly normal transaction detail. Come tax time, these invoices would be submitted to the tax authorities along with the store's other bills, and all the money would be cleaned up.
Of course, Dean went through all this effort not just to clean the money.
The final safety net was there so even if some day the phone company came knocking, Dean could deflect most of the legal responsibility with these modified little boxes, just like the past Carterfone cases.
Of course, none of this would likely happen, because even the phone company's servers were under Dean's surveillance, and he could erase everything with ease if needed.
In the wild era of network technology, hackers could indeed do as they pleased.
In this transaction, Dean had received a total of twelve thousand US Dollars in cash. Calculating at a 28% federal capital gains tax for 1988, he was expected to pay 3360 US Dollars in taxes.
However, after counting the crisp green US Dollar bills, Dean kept 3600 US Dollars for himself.
"Dean, isn't that too much?" Roger pointed at the extra 240 US Dollars and asked him.
"Quit your bitching, the money is for your Knights' home game tickets. So you won't be hemming and hawing between them and the Jackets every time."
"F*ck you, Dean!" Roger flipped him the bird fiercely.