We lived in Manzanita, close to the ocean, and we had this old bicycle. At that point I only had one brother or so and one sister, I think.
My mom said the three of us could split the revenue from the bicycle. If we sold it, then we could divide the money. Well, there was a new knife I wanted, so I was excited to make some extra money. As an entrepreneur in training, I decided that five dollars would be a good price to charge for a bicycle.
So we had the garage sale. I had a price tag on the bicycle for five dollars. This lady came around, looked at it, and said Oh…this is perfect! How much is it?
And I said: Five dollars.
She said: I'll take it.
I said Okay, and I helped carry the bike up to the money table. We got there, and all of a sudden, I realized something important: five dollars divided three ways was a very, very difficult amount to split correctly.
So I said "Would you mind paying six dollars for the bicycle?"
My mom was not very happy. "Joey! You can't change the price AFTER she's agreed to buy it!"
The lady was very nice, and respected my business logic. She said: Yes, I think I could pay six dollars.
I explained why I was forced to change the price, and she was empathetic, and paid the six dollars, and left as a happy customer with a new old bicycle.
I handed Josh and Leanna their one dollar each, and tucked my portion away into my secret savings hiding spot.
I think I have fonder memories of this story than everyone else involved. Don't know why. I am still proud of myself for the innovative business acumen I displayed. Kickstarter, here I come. Also, every time I think of this it makes me want to listen to Queen's "Bicycle Race," and I miss my old bike and wish I had it now so I could sell it again. This time, for six thousand dollars. And it makes me grateful for the bombastic theatrics of Queen, without whom there would be no Muse today.