They are the holders of dreams. Of fantasy. Of quick fix and faster cash.
They lie in wait. At the top of the mass transit escalator. Sometimes around corners. So sneaky. Some brazen and right in the middle of the sidewalk. Ready to spring their pamphlet on you. Or this morning a simple innocuous card. So innocent. Just take it. Please your curiosity. They stand there hands out in full confidence that what they hold will change your life for the better. Make you stronger. Make you faster. Make you more than you ever hoped more could be.
The secret they carry is just for you. And the thousand other fine people who, while completely different from you, will benefit just the same.
It's the next big thing. Like Soothsayers they proclaim, "My little magic card will be all over the news next week but you can get in now."
But the hander-outer has a nemesis. The straight ahead, I couldn't possibly care less stare. A stare it has taken me a month to perfect. The look that says, "I'm no sap." A stare worth learning. Because the hander-outer will soon make an appearance near you. They might not be as polished. Or as persistent, but they will be there. Those keepers of ambition. Those purveyors of sure things.
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