But the first guy wasn't concerned ... in fact the look of delight on his face, and the laughter that followed, showed he had clearly taken the knock to their merchandise in his stride ... his stride being more effective than his chum's.
You don't see retailers leaping over their well laid-out displays very often, so I was quite intrigued.
These exuberant leaps and bounds were in stark contrast to what I had seen only 20 minutes earlier.
The assistant, on that initial occasion, was sitting quietly there, awaiting customers.
I would put his age at around 7.
His "shop" was the front lawn of a house in suburban Napier, and he appeared to be selling small items, laid out across a couple of trays, which I suspect may have been culled from his toy boxes and deemed to be of no further interest to him.
But, he must have rationalised, they could well be of interest to other kids.
He was spot on there.
When I was a kid we had our own boxes of toys and dismembered models and books but whenever you went to a mate's place you rummaged through his stuff with a mix of curiosity and awe.
And he of course would get ratty because it was just his "old stuff" and he was more interested in going outside and demolishing something.
It was the same when kids would come to our house.
They'd start sieving through the toy boxes because you had stuff they didn't.
It was fascination.
So this young entrepreneur I spotted must have realised that one kid's junk is another's treasure.
What better way to make a few bob on a weekend.
Of course I was 48 years too old to seriously consider what might be on sale, but I was delighted to see a spot of commercial enterprise taking place.
That young lad will go far ... either as a sales director or as a champion long-jumper.
I remember an occasion about 25 years ago when I was out road-testing a motorcycle and came upon the sight of three kids selling home-made lemonade at a stall they had also clearly made at home.
Ten cents for a glass of "freshist lemonaide".
On that occasion I also applauded their commercial nous and endeavours.
So I stopped and bought a glass.
They loved having a close look at the big 750 I was riding and I handed over 20c for two glasses as they seemed to be having a quiet trading time (the jug was still pretty full.)
The lemonade was not exactly an award winner. In fact it tasted like something from the reptile world had crawled into the jug to die. But I sipped my way through it, while in the corner of my eye I could see one of the kids standing there holding my second purchased glass.
And I cheerfully, stoically, accepted it and drank it.
"Well done kids," I declared as I rode off into the land of nausea.
Our own daughters once ventured into the world of roadside sales commerce.
We had two giant walnut trees (now sadly gone after we moved away and the subdividers moved in) and they'd pick them up, dry them and shell them, then bag them and sell them ... for $1 a bag I think.
Dashed good walnuts, and they sold a few, despite our old villa being slightly off the beaten thoroughfare track.
They did so well it inspired me to bag and sell a good amount to a local trader ... what we got for them paid the quarterly rates bill.
So well done kids when you take to the gate, with whatever it is you're selling. May you flourish and prosper in life ... because you deserve to.
Roger Moroney is an award-winning journalist for Hawke's Bay Today and observer of the slightly off-centre.
