American History 1988
Chapter 70 - 65 A Small Compensation

Chapter 70: Chapter 65 A Small Compensation

"Hey, Dyson."

"Hey, Dean."

The two were old friends by now, and after a knuckle touch, they skipped any other formalities. The work of transferring Price’s List onto the NSF website was even mostly handled by Dyson.

But it was for that reason that Dean had extended the invitation to Dyson again, "Dyson, how about it? I’ve already found a place on campus for the office; you can come over anytime. It’s just a part-time job, it won’t take up too much of your time."

"Dean, I can help out, but you know, with classes and fraternity stuff, I’m kinda tied up. So at most I can spare one day a week; too much more than that..." Dyson spread his hands, his expression helpless.

"Ok~ that’s enough, Price’s List doesn’t need too much manual reviewing. We just need to deal with some website bugs as they come up." Dean was a bit disappointed, but he still welcomed Dyson with open arms.

The guy was the only geek he knew, and what’s more, he was competent. With him around, Dean could save a lot of effort. Unfortunately, at this stage, Price’s List was still a ragtag operation, not too appealing to students from top private universities.

Take Dyson for example; as long as he graduated smoothly, Ohio branches of IBM, HP, and others would definitely welcome him. Without the pressures of employment and making a living, Price’s List really didn’t have much pull.

Right now, the only reason Dyson was willing to share some of the workload for Price’s List might just be his geek interest.

"Anyway, if you’re ever willing to join, Price’s List will welcome you anytime." Having met a capable peer, Dean didn’t miss the chance to try and recruit him.

"OK, I will." Dyson nodded with a smile.

"Alright then, I’ll head back now, we’ll communicate by email if anything comes up." Not getting the response he hoped for, Dean waved his hand and prepared to leave, as he was a bit busy lately.

"Dean, have you ever thought about applying for school funds to formally commercialize Price’s List?" Just as Dean turned around, Dyson asked a question that caught him by surprise.

"School funds?" Dean paused, his gaze full of surprise.

"Yes, if you need them..." Dyson spread his hands, "maybe I can help out a bit; Case has specific support mechanisms..."

"No!" Before he could finish, Dean shook his head, "I might be able to handle it myself."

"Alright then," Dyson opened his mouth, "I was just... asking..."

"Thanks for your concern," Dean nodded, turned his gaze to the grand campus buildings of Case with a smile and asked, "Anything else?"

"No, that’s it."

"OK, see you around." After waving to Dyson, Dean walked briskly away from the Case campus.

Private schools are fucking loaded with money, not to mention the facilities, but even the students here are all ambitious. Dean suddenly felt that his screw-up buddy Simon was a bit more endearing.

...

"Dean, this is the fucking office you found for Price’s List? Pff~ pff~" Simon, disgusted, fanned away the dust as it hit him, and instantly started to complain to Dean.

They had agreed on an unused classroom in the Student Activity Center, but this ’unused’ seemed to have been for way too long. To use Simon’s words, the classroom looked like it had been through an extensive Stone Age.

Not to mention the junk in the room, the desks and chairs missing arms and legs made Dean wonder if a single gust of wind might cause them to fall apart.

"Okay, I admit it’s a bit messy, but at least it’s free, right?" Dean raised a hopeful smile, trying to encourage his roommate.

"Come on, we still need someone to clean this place up. If I’d known it was like this, I’d have paid rent for a clean room instead." Simon had been in the room for less than five minutes and already his clothes had gathered a thick layer of dust.

"Who said we need to find someone?" Dean took off his coat and put it outside, then rolled up his sleeves and walked directly into the room. "I got this place for free, so if I spend money on hiring someone to clean, wouldn’t that mess up my freeloading plan?"

"Oh~ Shit! Dean, if you become a capitalist, you’d definitely be one of the bloodiest!" Simon felt he still didn’t fully know Dean; every time, the guy managed to shock him.

"Stop complaining, Simon, come on, give me a hand. As soon as we clear out this stuff, this will be a perfect office. Shit! Why is this table so heavy..."

Though Simon grumbled, he didn’t hesitate to walk in and start helping with the cleanup. They were both kids from low-income families; they weren’t that delicate.

Muttering and cursing until noon, it was then that all the clutter in the classroom was finally cleared out. When an enthusiastic Miranda came to see how Dean’s office was being prepared, she found two mud-covered figures, collapsed at the classroom door.

"Dean?" Miranda confirmed that she hadn’t gone to the wrong place and, after observing carefully, tentatively asked.

"Yeah~" One of the figures moved, "We’ve only been apart for a day, Miranda, and you don’t recognize me anymore. Oh~ God, what a heartbreaking end."

"???" Miranda, "Dean, did you go play football?"

"Football?!" Dean sat up abruptly, "Miranda, I told you I needed to apply for an unused classroom, and you gave me this? See that small mountain of junk by the trash can? That’s the football I fought for all morning!"

Miranda turned to look outside, and then at the disheveled Dean, as if she had just realized what had happened.

"Oh~ my God, I forwarded your application to the logistics department. I told them we needed a place large enough and free, and then they gave me this room number. I had no idea it would be like this..."

"Well~" Dean waved his hand dismissively, probably already guessing that the school people had pulled one over on this Yale girl.

"At least it does seem big enough, and Simon’s and my efforts weren’t in vain." A room of forty or fifty square meters was more than enough to serve as a temporary office for Price’s List.

"My office is just upstairs, maybe I could help out when I’m free." Feeling a bit guilty, Miranda decided to offer Dean a small compensation.

"Great!" Dean snapped his fingers, "Will you support me like you support the One Cleveland project?"

The One Cleveland project? The first thing that popped into Miranda’s mind was stockings~!

"By the way, Miranda, what about the Federal Savings Bank we talked about last time? Are they willing to advertise on Price’s List?"

"I talked to my father, and I think it shouldn’t be a problem."

"Good! Another piece of good news." The weather in Cleveland was getting warmer, and so was Dean’s mood.

...

"Tammy, have you got any news on that website I asked you to look into?" Mather’s office was located on the topmost floors of the Federal Reserve Bank on East Sixth Street, a building with Italian Renaissance palatial architecture.

From where Mather sat, he could see the elaborate patterns carved into the pink Georgia marble that adorned the outer walls, wrapping around the upper part of the building, right where they were.

At his question, his assistant Tammy immediately came over with a document. "This Price’s List website, it originated from a Cleveland State University student’s idea. Although it just appeared this year, in just two or three months’ time, it has gained thirty to forty thousand users.

It started spreading from the university scene, and now it has made its appearance in downtown as well. Apparently, there’s a hugely popular community for seeking the opposite sex on the site, especially among many men, who visit the page almost daily."

"Seeking the opposite sex?" Mather interrupted Tammy’s briefing.

"Yes," Tammy paused, "Something like playboys."

Mather’s lips curled into a smirk, "Go on."

With the files in hand, Tammy continued, "It seems that since last month, Price’s List has begun to purposely push for commercialization reforms. Mainly for property management companies and manpower agencies, posting rental or recruitment ads. The charge is typically no more than 100 US dollars, of course, their clients... are matching in scale."

Tammy thought for a moment before finding the right words, but Mather already understood what that implied.

"What about the founder’s information?"

"Dean Price, from Youngstown, Ohio. His father is unemployed, his mother was of Irish descent, but she has passed away. That’s all for now; other family details are unknown."

Irish descent? Mather’s initially furrowed brows relaxed slightly, "Do you have a printout of the website?"

"Right here," Tammy handed over a printout of Price’s List’s homepage.

Mather took a look and casually circled an area on the paper. "Ask them if they would consider accepting an advertising commission from the Federal Reserve Bank, right in the spot I just circled."

Tammy took it and saw that Mather had encircled a large area right next to Price’s List’s homepage logo.