“Wait, so everythin’s a business expense?” the mare asked. “Even eatin' food and stuff?”
“It costs money for you to be alive,” I explained, “and since you can’t buck apples if you’re dead, it’s a business expense. Or rather, the phrase ‘cost to produce’ is better, because business expenses would strictly relate to apple trees and their maintenance.”
“Huh. That’s a funny way of thinkin’ ‘bout it. But vacations and such can’t factor inta the cost ta sell an apple.”
“They absolutely do. If you work every day without a break, you’re gonna wear yourself out and be less productive. You’re at your peak after a good break. Vacations definitely factor into cost to produce an apple. I mean, what good is it to do the job you love if you’re burning yourself out and hating it by the end of the day and are never happy?”
“Ah don’t burn myself out,” she protested, although relented a second later. “I guess though that Ah do go ta bed tired a lot. Don’t really have much time ta see my friends or make barn repairs. A vacation would be nice…”
“Yes it would, wouldn’t it? And that’s why it’s also put into the cost.”
“Well Ah don’t really hafta raise my prices though,” she tried to argue. “We kinda get by here already. And besides, that’s what the Grand Galloping Gala’s for! We’re gonna go there and sell a buncha apples and make so much money that we’ll pay for everythin’!”
“Unless whatever that is is the event of the year,” I tried to say, “then that’s not a reasonable expectation to set on yourself."
“Plus, doesn’t the Grand Galloping Gala already have free food?” Caramel asked. “Why would ponies pay for food when they can already get it for free at the event?”
“Well like Ah said, our apples are the best apples in all of Equestria, so even them fancy shmancy ponies in Canterlot will wanna have a taste.”
“So let me get this straight: you’re expecting to make enough money to fix this barn and your house and farm during a one day event in a place that already has free food?”
“Yup! Plus enough ta get Granny Smith a new hip!” She sent a smile my way with that statement like she was completely sure this was an excellent plan.
“I’m telling you now, that’s not gonna work. If you’re expecting that to work, you’re setting yourself up for failure. You should just be raising the price of apples in general. If your apples are premium, ponies should pay a premium price for them. Or, at least, a price that lets you live comfortably.”
“Well like Ah said, that just seems unfair.”
“It’s unfair to want to make enough money to be able to fix your farm up?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Cause if it is, then I don’t know what is fair.”
"Well... I guess it might be okay ta maybe raise prices... but just a little bit. Nothin' too high. Ah don't even know though how much ta raise them."
“Do you have any paper and pencils in here? We can go through and figure out how much an apple should cost. Keep in mind, a general rule of thumb is that you want to make about ten cents for every dollar you sell… or one bit per every ten, I guess. That means enough to cover everything you need to live and then ten percent going into savings. Of course, depending on how much you make, you can adjust that to be whatever you want, but it’s just a general rule.”
“I thought we already were factoring saving for emergencies.”
“We are. The ten percent is just gonna be a general saving fund, for if you want to invest in other business or buy a new farm or give money to your kids when you die or whatever else. Anyway, where’s that paper?”
Caramel brought us some, and we started to go through it. As we did, the farm pony made a little comment about my writing style.
“Wow, ya even write like them fancy shmancy ponies in Canterlot. No wonder yer so smart.”
“I’m not that smart. I’m just old. I’ve gone to college for all this stuff before. I’m a year away from getting my master’s. Err, was.”
I let that depressing thought hang there as we spent the next hour and a half going through everything she had to pay for and what she was charging for each thing and how much of them she sold. By the end of it, I thought we put together a good plan for pricing her apples. She wouldn’t accept ten percent profits, but I did manage to convince her to take five percent. But if she followed what I said, then she should have be able to fix up her farm like she wanted to in no time.
“Ah think Ah can go with this,” she told me. “This feels like enough money ta start fixin’ some things up around here. Thank ya kindly, little filly.”
I didn’t comment on the adage of ‘little filly’, only letting out a breath before hopping down from my chair. “Don’t mention it. It’s what I do. I just didn’t want to see you losing money when you could be making some and not having to rely on some year end sale.”
“Well know that it’s greatly appreciated… hey, did ya get yer cutie mark just now?” she asked. “Ah don’t remember ya comin’ in with one if Ah recall.”
“He didn’t! He must have got that just now!" Caramel said. “Good job!”
I looked down at my butt to see three gold coins with dollar signs on them now made their way on me. If Scootaloo’s definition of a cutie mark was accurate, I guessed this meant I was good with money, which was something I wasn’t expecting. I mean, I knew regular economics, but I was no financial expert. I honestly expected a couple of other things to be in its place instead.
“Wouldn’t be surprised if ya became one of them Canterlot ponies,” the apple farmer told me. “What with a cutie mark like that and all this helpin’ ya did, ya could probably waltz yer way into their circles in a blink. They’re always thinkin’ of things like that.”
That was another pony saying I’d be good in politics, a comment that made me just that much more assured in wanting to do something like that. If these ponies saw that in me, that would make it much easier to actually be able to put work into and achieve. A few ponies was a good starting point, and something to build on.
“How do you feel about it? This must be pretty exciting, right?”
“I mean, I thought it was going to be something different,” I said. “Like a cross or something.” That was an extremely narcissistic thought I had, but I honestly expected it. It was almost surprising that it wasn’t that.
“But I guess it’s nice enough,” I said. “I don’t know if it means I get to do things differently now or if anything changes, but I mean…” I shrugged, not really knowing what to say.
“Maybe yer just in shock,” the farm pony said. “In a little while, ya won’t even be able ta believe it! But thank ya kindly fer helpin’ me out with my budget. Yer quite the smart filly.”
Quite the smart filly, she said. It got the words Celestia told me to roll around in my head once again. Would God want me to be acting this way? There was no way that God would want me to be dysphoric like this, right? Except that seemed like it was exactly the case given He turned me into this.
Maybe Caramel and I really were different in our circumstances, except not in the way I expected. Maybe they were in the right for wanting to be a mare since they felt the way they did, and I was wrong wanting to be a stallion because I used to be a man and God explicitly turned me into this. I didn’t know what my life would come to having to live like this, but I couldn’t do three hundred plus years of Earth time feeling this way.
“All the more reason to focus on politics,” I thought to myself. “Or maybe, if I’m going to be around for that long anyway, I could get started working on opening a business, too. I’d certainly have time on my hands. I’m gonna need a good distraction.” Celestia’s awful ruling might have been a secondary objective compared to a good distraction.
I didn’t bother trying to correct her on the fact that I wasn’t a girl, only saying a simple ‘your welcome’ before heading on out, Caramel and I heading back into the orchard.
“You’re really not excited about your cutie mark?” they asked, changing their voice to the higher pitched voice they had before. “Almost every single foal I know would be excited.”
“It’s whatever. I guess it makes sense for it to be with money though. That’s what I was going to college for. I just kind of wished it was something different.”
“Well, your cutie mark does signify your special talent, but you shouldn’t let that define you. You can do whatever it is you love the most.”
“I know that, but… I don’t know. There’s just so much time… hey, how old was the oldest pony you knew?” I suddenly asked.
“Huh? Oh, that would be my great grandmother, Shoe Shine. She lived to be a hundred and sixty one. I think the oldest pony in Equestria outside of the princess was a hundred and eighty four though.”
Some quick mental math put that at four to five hundred years. There was no way I was going to last that long living like this. It gave me another question though.
“How old are you, Caramel?”
“Eighteen.”
That was a bit younger than I was expecting. I thought they’d say somewhere in their late twenties or early thirties range. I didn’t dwell on that though, continuing, “How long do you think you’d be able to live the way you are now, without changing anything about yourself?”
“What do you mean? Like, how long before I, uh…”
“How long until you got completely fed up with it and just said, ‘I don’t care what anyone else thinks, I’m going to change myself?”
“Oh. Whoo, I thought you were asking something else there for a second. But I’d say… I don’t know. Maybe a year or two? But I guess right now, probably. It’s just…” They sighed and lowered their head, saying, “I don’t think I’d be able to do another year. I just want to start being able to be myself.”
That did not give me the hope I was looking for. But then again, I was pretty sure Caramel didn’t believe in God. I’d be able to manage better than they were able to with God on my side.
I hoped so anyway.
“I read a few stories about magic spells that can change your sex though. That’d be nice, if they could get somepony working on that. I’d be first in line.”
“Wait, don’t they have, like… I don’t know what the word for it is. Like, medicine and stuff you can take?”
“Huh? Not that I’ve heard of. Unless you’ve heard of something like that?”
“Never mind.” Why was I even thinking about that? I was at such a crossroads. I didn’t know what to do if the option was available because I didn’t know what God would want me to do.
It was something I tried to convince myself of anyway. I felt like I knew, but I wasn’t ready to acknowledge that yet. I would hold out hope for now.
“Anyway, I wanna change subjects,” I said. “Do you think I’d be able to be a politician or open a business very easily?”
“I don’t know how to be a politician, but I’m sure opening a business should be easy. I mean, all you have to do is have a product to sell, and make sure you pay Princess Celestia her taxes.”
“Interesting. I’ll have to look into the later. I don’t see why I can’t do both. But anyway, let’s get something done. I need something to think about other than myself.”