THE DEAD SEA

It reminds me of last Christmas when I was at the mall. I hadn’t been to a mall in a number of years, so I was just kind of meandering bout, slack-jawed, with no particular destination.
As I passed a Kiosk, I hear a voice say ‘Hello sir, how are you today?”
I turned around, and there's a good looking middle eastern fellow in a crisp white shirt and tie.
“I’m fine” I say.
He’s approaching me with his hand out. I cant help but stop my meandering and shake his hand.
“Call me Ishmael” he says “Whats your name?”
“I’m Steve “
“Well Steve, let me ask you. Have you washed your hands today?”
“Yes”
“How many times?”
“Five or six” I lied.
“Well let me show you something amazing”
He proceeds to show me a fancy bottle of pink salt, and he has me rub some in my hand. He tells me it comes from someplace exotic in the middle east, and asks me if I know where.
“The Dead Sea?” I venture.
“That’s right, you are very smart Steve” Ismael tells me. “Do you know why they call it the Dead Sea?” he asks.
“Because nothing can live in it” I say.
“Oh wow!” he says , and calls over to his buddy on the other side of the Kiosk “Hey, Steve knows why they call it the Dead Sea!”

Let me tell you, I had no idea how to get away from this guy. I listened to his whole spiel, watched as the salt made my hands cleaner than an angels butt, knowing I wasn’t going to buy any salt at the mall. He finally got to the pitch and the price.
80 bucks, that’s how much a jar of pink salt and a tube of cream cost. I laughed. No way.
He leaned in a little closer and whispered “I tell you what, I can let you have TWO for 60. That’s two salts and two creams in the special gift pack”
Anyone that knows me knows I don’t have an inside voice.
“SIXTY BUCKS FOR TWO? REALLY?” I said.
His eyes get wide and he grabs me by the shoulders and whispers “Steve, not so loud!”, and looks around as if to make sure no one has heard.
It was hilarious, and I laughed again.
"I’m sorry buddy, I cant pay that much for your product as excellent as it is”
“How much would you pay Steve?”
“I dont know. Maybe 15.”
Ismael looked at me with the most hurt look I had ever seen. I would not have been surprised if her were to render his garment, or pluck out an eyebrow and blow it away to the wind.
And that was my exit, except he had me sign a card to get on their mailing list.
Some folks just cant say no!