WISH LISTED

                 So I was sitting around the store Michigan, feeling pretty bummed out. We’d been in a slump for years, awash in red ink, our cash flow position was atrocious. Our mainstay customer base was eroded and our reputation on the street was more pestilential  than the Black Plague.

                “This is a pickle,” said my buddy Hymie.

                “You know it, pal,” I said. He shrugged.  I shrugged.

                 “I have an idea,” he said. “A bold, fresh and creative plan.  Let’s wish on a star!”

                “Did that in ‘07. But sure, why not?” So we looked in the sky, and made a wish. Suddenly there was a puff of smoke, and there stood a lady dressed in blue, holding a stick with a star on the end of it.  

                “I’m the Fairy Godmother,” she said, looking around. “This place is a pit.”

                “We laid off half the crew so the other ones could get raises.”

                “Okay, “ she said. “So now what? You want to go to the Ball?”

                “Nope,” I said. “We want to be rich again.” Hymie nodded vigorously.

                “So how were you rich before?”

                “This was the most profitable store in the world. A gold mine! We sold all over the globe. We defined the market and set the standard. Everybody came to us. We pioneered all the sales strategies and product innovations. We put the world on wheels, beat Hitler, and hammered back the Japanese in the 1980s. Michigan flowed with money.”

                “So what happened?”

                “Well,” Hymie said. “I dunno. People started buying  Indiana instead.”

                “And Texas,” I said. “Japan. North Carolina, South Korea. Everywhere else.”

                “Why” she asked, pulled something off the shelf, smelled  it, coughed, and put it back.

                “Everyone said the other guys were cheaper. Costs were less for the same basic stuff. They said pennies counted and they couldn’t afford us anymore.”

                “So why didn’t you change?”

                “We can’t lower our prices, we have to pay our union guys! We can’t get rid of all the forms we make people fill out, because the customers might do bad stuff if we don’t. We can’t quit charging a surcharge to feed all the homeless guys hanging around the front door, because that would be cruel.”

                “I get the picture, “said the Fairy Godmother. “Any now you want me to make you rich again? I’ll give you rich, you bums!” She began smacking us with her pointy star wand.”Quit wasting my time! I’ve got another call from Cinderella.” Poof! The Fairy Godmother disappeared.

                “So now what?” Hymie said. I shook my head. Even the Fairy Godmother was a bust.  So we went out and found a new manager, and began to start cleaning the place up. Hymie called the union rep to start talking contracts. We ran a balance sheet to re-do the budget and cut costs. We reviewed the price structure and product line.

                Suddenly there was a commotion outside. Hymie poked his head out. “You’re not gonna believe this! One door over, Illinois just jacked up their prices big time! 66% tax hike on personal customers, 46% on business.”

                “Holy Opportunity!” I said. “Let’s put up a big sign, ‘Michigan Open for Business!’ Let’s get those Illinois customers over here!”

                “Lower prices, better service, more value for your money! Under New Management! Let’s get moving!” I looked outside. There across the street on a park bench, reading the paper sat the Fairy Godmother.

                “Nyaa, nyaa!” I blew a Bronx Cheer. “We’re back on the road to riches. No thanks to you!”

                “Really?” she put down her paper and grinned. “How do you know?”

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