BatteryPARK!

Renaissance Urban Sportsman: Good lord what are you doing?
Working Boy: I’m going through my stuff looking for things to sell.
R.U.S: Sell? Are you mad?! This stuff is priceless.
W.B: I hope not. I hope it's full of prices.
R.U.S: This is madness. Wait, you can’t be serious. This?
W.B: What good is it to me now?
R.U.S: Good? Tortoise shell cigarette holders aren’t for good! They’re for waving around in private as you talk to yourself in a mirror and for hiding in sock drawers so your friends don’t find out about them!
W.B: Oh man, that’s good times. All right, it stays.
R.U.S: And this? You can’t sell your sterling silver dime dispensing key chain! What if you forgot your wallet and have to take the trolley from Battery Park to the Polo Grounds? What will you do then?
W.B: I haven’t been the Polo Grounds in years. How did the Giants do yesterday anyway?
R.U.S: Oh you should have seen Mickey Welch. That dirty, drunk mick bastard can really hurl.
W.B: You were at the game? Why didn’t you invite me?!
R.U.S: I had the operator ring you up but nobody answered.
W.B: What time did you call?
R.U.S: Noon-ish.
W.B: Oh, I was probably taking my Epsom salt bath. Damn its noisy, curative bubbles!
R.U.S: So are you going to keep it?
W.B: Yeah, I guess. You said you were going to the game next week right?
R.U.S: Oh most assuredly.
W.B: And besides were would I be able to store my dimes if I got rid of it?
R.U.S: Probably in your pocket like common whore.
W.B: And I am no common whore.
R.U.S: Oh no. Not really I suppose.
W.B: What about these ties and ascots? Surely one or two.
R.U.S: Oh my no. They all match your silk shirts.
W.B: Yeah, about those…
R.U.S: You can’t be serious?! A man is nothing without his silk shirts. He might as well wallow around with swine and eat broken glass from hubcaps!
W.B: But what about all the doubles? Surely I don’t need two of the same shirt and tie.
R.U.S: No? And what are you to do if you spill baby seal soup on a set? Just go one living without? Preposterous. Say, what about this?
W.B: Oh that’s the wife’s.
R.U.S: Your point being?
W.B: Hey, now you’re onto something! Look at all this excess! Three pairs of shoes! A jewelry box full of paper clips.
R.U.S: You know that jewelry box could fetch a pretty good sum.
W.B: Impossible. It was a gift to the Mayor from the Thai Financial Minister. I had to destroy a substantial paper trail and bring in my extra big “stealing” briefcase to sneak that one out. It has too many memories.
R.U.S: You’re probably right. But surely she doesn’t need all these pink socks.
W.B: Those are mine.
R.U.S: Pink? Really?
W.B: And I suppose you wear your seersucker with flip flops and the backwards cap of one of those baseballer teams out west!?
R.U.S: Of course, you’re right, I’m sorry.
W.B: Thank you. But really I must find something to sell.
R.U.S: What about etiquette lessons? You could sell class. All you’d have to do is shower, shave, lose those 15 cupcake pounds and bleach the hell out of your horribly yellow teeth. Why with only a 1,500 dollar investment I could have you up and charging 5/hr. etiquette lessons in under 7 months!

W.B: Hot damn, just let me find my checkbook. Someone hid it last week when I was at the spa.