The Bike in the Window

(Monday morning at a plant shop on Bergen Street in Brooklyn. The spring sale starts on Friday.)

Hugo: Okay, so. Picture it. A jungle. Big ferns at the back, small ones at the front, and my old bike in the middle.

Corinne: Your bike.

Hugo: With flowers in the basket. That's the feature. People stop for a bike.

Corinne: People stop for a deal. Put the four-dollar cactus at the front and a big sign. TWO FOR SEVEN.

Hugo: That's not a window. That's a supermarket.

Corinne: The supermarket sells more plants than we do.

Hugo: Look, we have a brand. Green, calm, a little wild.

Corinne: Our brand is a small shop with too many plants in it.

Hugo: Fine. Bike and cactus?

Corinne: Bike and cactus.

(Friday morning. The window is full of ferns and cactuses, with an old blue bike in the middle. A customer comes in.)

Customer: Hi. That blue bike in the window — is it for sale?

Hugo: It isn't. It's mine.

Corinne: Fifty dollars.

Hugo: Corinne.

Corinne: Sixty, and we'll put a free cactus in the basket.