“Mr. Dennis, this Reuben,” Mario said.
The earnest-looking young Reuben shook my hand and joined us at our morning coffee on the beach.
“Mario says you want some advice,” I said. “How can I help you?”
“I invent things made of paper,” he said. “I’m a good inventor but I don’t know anything about selling. Mario says you studied business at university so maybe you could advise me.”
He opened his briefcase and drew out a flat heavy paper object. He folded it and tucked it until it turned into a bottle about eight inches high.
“Wow, Reuben!” I said. “This is impressive. Does it hold water?”
He poured some of his coffee into the bottle and it didn’t leak a bit.
“My folded paper products are very strong,” he said.
“What do you call it?” I asked.
“I make up product names to start with the letter F for ‘folding.’ I call it the fottle.”
“Oh, that’s a terrible name,” I said. “You need to come up with another one.”
“I’ll try to think of something different,” he said, as he pulled another flat object out of the case. He folded and tucked paper about and came up with a handy-looking little heavy paper box.
“That’s a nice little carton,” I said. “What do you call it?”
“That’s my farton,” he said, proudly.
“Ooh, that’s another terrible name,” I said.
Reuben said, “If you think the fottle and the farton were bad names you’re going to really hate my folding bucket.”
