New York Stories

A man walks into a music store. He has come in at the same time, the same place, the same day each week, for the past five weeks, to play the same piano. A young and bored female store clerk sits at the desk with a book. She's seen him before, but this is the first time they've spoken.

Girl: Can I help you?

Guy: You got a lot of old stuff here. I bet the last guy you sold one of these scores to had a long beard and a stick huh?

Girl: Hm.

Guy:  You ought to clean out these shelves sometime. I could help you with that.

Girl: If you're looking for a job, we're not hiring.

He pauses to pick up an old manuscript from a teetering pile. Starts to flip through it. Picks up another that is large and expensive looking. He stacks it on top of scores on the side table, where they fall to the floor. Dark stare from store clerk. 

Guy: Sorry - I don't have an excuse for that, or for myself I'm afraid. I'm Ben by the way.

Girl:  Ben - again darkening my doorway. Can I help you?

Guy: Me? Oh, I saw your advertisement. On the window, for lessons. 

Girl: I've heard you play, we only teach up to Grade 8 here...
Guy: Oh, not lessons for me. For my cousin.
Girl: Your cousin?

Guy: For my 12 year old cousin.

Girl:  Where is she?

Guy: Oh, she's not here.

Girl: I see that. So, you just came in to use the facilities as it were.

Guy: No, I really did come here to check for my cousin. 

Girl: That a fact?

Guy: She just moved here. New to town.

Girl: I see, and does she also take advantage of shopfloor instruments where they present themselves?

Guy: No, my cousin is in fact an honourable young human. She is however similarly afflicted. With the desire to play an instrument.

Girl: This instrument?

Guy: Yes.

Girl: This same instrument which you appear to have the desire to play every Friday night at precisely this time, in precisely this location?

Guy: Yes. No. Not this specific instrument, no, but in fact, a piano, any piano.

Girl: A piano across town perhaps?

Guy: Maybe.

Silence.

Girl: Look, as much fun as I'm having dancing around the issue, I do need to know whether you're going to buy the piano or not.

Guy: Me? Oh no, I don't have any money.

Girl: You have no money.

Guy: No.

Girl: I'm guessing that's why you're here. and not in your own house, playing a piano that you already own?

Guy: You would be correct.

Girl: Well, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't let you keep coming in here and skillfully playing this piano with discernible talent if you have no intention of purchasing it.

Guy: I completely understand.

Girl: Good.

Female clerk returns to reading her book. Ben has stayed put, standing and looking at her. She looks up.

Guy: So what about the lessons? 

Girl: The lessons?

Guy: The lessons.

Girl: For the cousin. From out of town.

Guy: Well...If, hypothetically speaking, said cousin did show some level of discernible talent, albeit offering slightly more headroom, more floorspace for your customers, and displaying considerably more financial incentive - if that was the case, would that provide me theoretically speaking with a get out of jail free card?

Girl: You want to keep playing the piano here?

Guy: Yes.

Girl: In exchange for these theoretical piano lessons your cousin is going to hypothetically pay me for?

Guy: That's the theory.