
A traveling salesman was driving home through the quiet, open stretches of Northern Arizona after a long and uneventful trip. The miles had felt endless, and the silence in the car was beginning to wear on him. As he rounded a bend in the road, he noticed a Navajo man standing by the roadside with his thumb out, hoping for a ride. Grateful for the chance to break the monotony and have a bit of company, the salesman pulled over and offered him a lift.
The Navajo man climbed into the passenger seat, and they soon settled into light conversation about the road, the weather, and the distance still ahead. For a while, they rode in comfortable silence. Every so often, the salesman noticed the Navajo man glancing discreetly at a brown paper bag resting on the front seat between them.
After a few miles, the salesman smiled and said, “If you’re wondering what’s in the bag, it’s just a bottle of wine. I bought it as a gift for my wife.”
The Navajo man remained quiet for a moment, thoughtfully nodding his head several times. Finally, he looked over and replied calmly, “Good trade.”
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