American History 1988
Chapter 67 - 63 Good Luck

Chapter 67: Chapter 63 Good Luck

Throughout March, Dean had been busy with the advertising for Price’s List, thanks to the door-to-door sales he and Simon had conducted over the previous two weeks. In total, Price’s List received over 300 advertising orders this month, with the majority being affordable rental listings.

Jerry, who managed nearly 500 properties on the east side of the river, had about 55% of them sitting vacant. Because he had a taste of success with Price’s List, he alone contributed nearly 100 posted ads to Dean.

The remaining 200-plus advertising requests mostly came from a variety of job recruitments, as well as other rental companies’ listings. With Price’s List charging so low, its advertising appeal was very cost-effective for many companies.

And these 300-plus advertising orders brought Dean a cash income of over 3500 US Dollars. See, the operating costs of Price’s List were no longer an issue.

Although Dean couldn’t guarantee that he’d have this much revenue every month, since once those cheap rentals were all rented out, naturally, the demand for advertising would decrease.

But everything had just begun, the commercialization of the website had just begun, and the exploration of Cleveland’s advertising market had just started. According to Dean’s estimate, although there might be great market fluctuations in the first one or two years, from a long-term perspective, the future was definitely a growth market.

So, as Dean was counting his gains, he was full of confidence in the future. With an income of 3500 US Dollars, his account balance once again returned to around 17,000 US Dollars.

Now, the extra rent he was earning in Youngstown could bring him an income of about 1800 US Dollars a month, which was just enough to offset the operating costs of Price’s List, and there was even a slight surplus.

This meant that the website’s advertising revenue was all going into Dean’s own pocket. Of course, he didn’t take all the profits for himself. Price’s List wouldn’t be what it was today with just him alone.

"Simon, take this, it’s our first earnings," Dean said as he pulled out five 100-dollar Benjamins and handed them to his partner in crime and good brother, Simon.

"Wow~ Dean!" Simon could hardly believe what he saw, and he confirmed with surprise and joy, "So we made money, didn’t we?"

"Of course, I told you..." Dean emphasized with his finger pointed at him, "We are on our way to wealth!"

"Mother F*cker! Dean, I suddenly feel like I’m really something!" Holding the bills over and over, Simon’s chest swelled with emotions.

US Dollars, that was even more than what his mother made working part-time at the laundry. If he could make this much money every month, he wouldn’t need half a year to save up all the tuition for the next school year.

"Simon, this is just the beginning," Dean pointed at the computer on his desk, "How many advertising orders it can receive, that’s what determines how much we can make next month."

"Oh~Shit! When you put it that way, I feel like heading out right now to shove Price’s List’s advertising policy onto the desk of every company boss in Cleveland, I wouldn’t hesitate to sell my ass!" Under the influence of the Dollar, Simon was even prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice.

"If Alisa knew you were doing this, she would kill you," Dean had to remind him, as the Spanish girl could sometimes be as impulsive and bold as a bullfighter.

Simon imagined that scenario in his mind and then gladly accepted Dean’s advice, "You’re right, Dean, forget selling my ass, but we must continue to sell. Oh, by the way, can I make another suggestion?" Simon waved the five big bills in his hand.

"What?" Dean looked at him, puzzled.

"Can we make it 20-dollar bills next time? I don’t even know how to spend these. And if I get robbed, then I’d really be at a loss," Simon felt that although Dean was smart, he lacked the life experience that Simon had. Thinking this, Simon felt a little proud, see, he also had a role to play in the team.

"OK~" Dean shrugged, "When we make enough money one day, I’ll just transfer it directly to your account."

"I’m really looking forward to that day~!" Simon put the money in his pocket and got ready to leave, putting on his coat.

"Where are you going?"

"I’m going to have a good celebration with Alisa, there’s a themed hotel we’ve been eyeing for a while."

Mother F*cker! A mouthful of dog food later, Dean suddenly regretted asking that last question.

But with a wallet now thicker, Dean’s eyes started to dance with a new idea. He pushed aside the curtain to look at the sun outside, which seemed to indicate it was around four or five in the afternoon, a time when almost all the schools in the college town had finished their day’s lessons.

Picking up the phone on the desk, he proficiently dialed and soon the call was connected.

"Is Ophelia there? It’s Dean, her classmate."

"Dean, it’s me~ Are you done with your day?" The sound of Ophelia’s voice carried a hint of surprise.

"Wow, looks like I’m in luck, the first person to answer the phone is the one I wanted to talk to." Dean leaned on the desk, casually observing the passersby in the campus outside his window.

"You always have that kind of luck, Dean." Luck, huh? Not necessarily. Ever since Ophelia gave her number to Dean, she’s always been the first to rush to answer the Smiths’ phone.

"Thanks," Dean replied, while simultaneously flipping open the calendar on his desk, "Ophelia, your birthday is in two days, right?"

Birthday? Ophelia certainly remembered her own birthday, but thinking of the promise she once made to him, she suddenly felt a bit shy.

"Dean, are you planning to celebrate my birthday?"

"Of course, I have everything ready, and I believe it will be a marvelous night." Dean tried to make his tone as gentle as possible, wanting to leave Ophelia with a beautiful memory.

"Then..." Ophelia bit her lip, "I’ll wait for your call."

"I swear! I will!" Dean solemnly promised.

After hanging up the phone, Dean rubbed his face. Mother F*cker, why did he feel guilty? Oh no, he was single, Ophelia was single, a match made in heaven, wasn’t it?

Although he loved seafood pasta and sometimes drank alcohol on the sly, Dean still considered himself a good boy.

Now clear-headed, Dean began to think about what kind of gift he should prepare for Ophelia. Girls her age seemed to have no urgent pursuit of material things.

...

Tremont, the famous wealthy area of West Cleveland. Together with the neighboring Ohio City, it is known as the essence of residential living in Cleveland.

To the north is the under-construction Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the Greater Cleveland Aquarium. To the south is the beautiful Park, and to the west are nearly century-old architectural art pieces like the Cleveland Arcade. As for the east, it connects to the West Side Market, which is one of the main shopping areas for Clevelanders.

Stepping in her stockings and walking in a pair of high heels, Miranda greeted the street patrol officers familiarly before entering her row house in Cleveland.

Miranda didn’t find Cleveland as bad as outsiders said. Where she lived, police patrolled 24 hours a day, and in the past six months, she hadn’t heard even a single gunshot.

There were all kinds of delicacies and shopping centers near West Side Market, and people generally appeared to be friendly. Not to mention, she could always go to appreciate those historic buildings and occasionally take a luxury yacht out on Lake Erie for a vacation.

Based on her experience of only half a year, Miranda had a good impression of Cleveland.

Pushing open her front door and taking off her coat in the porch cloakroom to change into slippers, Miranda walked into the living room with utmost ease.

"Miranda, you’ve come back a bit late. Remember what I told you, after 5 pm Cleveland is no longer safe." Mather, who was sitting on the sofa reading the newspaper, reminded her subtly upon her arrival.

"I know, Daddy." Instead of going to her room as usual, Miranda approached the sofa, glanced at the newspaper in Mather’s hands, and then sat down with interest.

"The Cleveland Financial Times? Has the S&P 500 index gone up again?"

"Mhm~" Mather humored her with a response.

"Daddy, has the Federal Reserve Bank been short-handed lately?" Miranda’s hands fidgeted unconsciously on her lap, and in the faint rubbing sound, the light-colored stockings shimmered under the light.

Mather finally sensed something unusual, put down the newspaper, and turned to look seriously at his daughter, "Miranda, what is it, is there something I can help with?"

"It’s like this," Miranda adjusted her posture, "I found a really interesting website with lots of college students. Case, State University, and so on, almost the entire college town is there. Most importantly, this website accepts advertisement hiring, so I was thinking maybe the Federal Savings Bank could post job ads there, it might be effective. Oh right, their charges are very cheap, just a few dozen US dollars will do."

Looking at his daughter waiting expectantly for praise, Mather exaggeratedly bulged his eyes, "Wow~ that’s great. The Federal Savings Bank needs exactly this kind of direct communication channel with students, those trust institutions better not think about competing with us for those outstanding graduates anymore!"

"Yeah~" Miranda nodded in agreement, filled with righteous indignation.

"However, Miranda, did you really stumble upon this website by accident?" Mather suddenly turned the conversation around, "Besides, the Federal Savings Bank has its own recruitment fair..."

"Daddy~" Miranda grabbed Mather’s arm and shook it back and forth, "Okay, I admit it’s a website made by one of my students, but it really is excellent, I promise!"

Mather raised an eyebrow, "Ok~ I’ll have someone look into it tomorrow. You know, we need to follow procedures."

"Thank you, Daddy~" Miranda happily kissed Mather on the cheek and then cheerfully headed to her room.

"Mom, did the stockings I ordered the other day arrive?"

Watching his daughter’s retreating figure, Mather was lost in thought.

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