One evening I went out to buy pretzels; the big ones that come in big cans. There was a youngish man in the store, talking with the proprietor—not buying, not selling, but bragging of his skill as a salesman. He had, he said, sold merchandise to a physician who had not wanted it, and on that sale he had made $27. "You have to keep the brain working," he said. Not your brain or my brain but the brain.
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