Oliver Benjamin
Consumers. We’rethe biggest coffee buyers in America. You can’t
blame the suppliers. If Biddenbrooks didn’t exist, someone else
would jump in and give the people what they want. And everyone
wants their coffee as cheap as possible.”
“That’s crap,” Martin challenged, “Biddenbrooks could pay more
for the beans. They make huge profits. They charge four dollars for a
latté, and the beans only cost them ten cents.”
“Everything costs at least four dollars, Marty,” Roy pointed out.
“Fast food meals, a dozen donuts, a car wash. That’s what businesses
have to get off each patron to cover their overhead and make money.
It’s never the actual stuff that you have to pay for—it’s the place.
Location, location, location.”
“Exactly! That’s exactly why they should pay more for the beans
they buy. What’s the difference if they pay a dime for the beans or
twenty cents? If a latté costs four dollars, and they double what
they’re paying to the farmers, then that’s only a tiny increase in
operational costs.”
Roy sighed. “Okay. But even if they did, what difference would it
make? The farmers in these countries would still pay their laborers as
little as they could. In poor places, that’s always the same: just
enough to prevent them from revolting. And even if that weren’t the
case, as big as Biddenbrooks is, it still only buys a small fraction of
the world’s beans.”
Niles had to object to this. He spoke up: “That’s no excuse for
them not to take responsibility,” the Rastafarian insisted, shaking his
dreadlocks back and forth. “It only takes one heroic thinker to change
the whole system.”
“You and I both know that Morris Bidden is not a heroic thinker,”
Roy answered.
“I mean you, Roy.”
“Oh no. No. No way,” Roy said, standing up and waving his
hands, “Sorry. I’m not going down that road again. I’m sweeping my
front step and that’s it.”
“So you want me to scrap the tape?” Martin asked.
Roy shook his head. “You misunderstand me, Marty. I love the
tape. Anything that makes Bidden look like an asshole gets my stamp
of approval. I could care less if it’s accurate.”
“Oh,” he said, relieved, “All right then. Film at eleven.”
But as he was getting up to go, a loud crash came from the store.
They all ran in to see what happened.
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