Wednesday, December 1, 2010


The sale couldn't possible have come at a better time. Yeah, she wasn't exactly struggling to make ends meet, but this would put her over the top; she really wanted that flat-screen and this was just the guy to give it to her. Right, not literally, but he was paying sticker price, so he might as well be. She guided him to her office and pulled out the paperwork, pinching herself the whole way. She looked him up and down as she fumbled for her pen. He sure was a character, well, a character insomuch as he was as unremarkable as a guy in an Armani suit buying a Ferrari at sticker price; a stereotypical character. A stereotypical character with one hell of a checkbook.
And then, he went to sign.
She was startled by his yelp, but he seemed to be signing alright, which eased her nerves. At least he wasn't seizing, that had been a terrible experience. She didn't have to tell him to put the date-
and initial-
She let out the breath she'd been holding. He looked up and started to explain, not falling all over himself like she thought he would, but coolly, casually, like it wasn't something that scared the living hell out of people.
“Oh I'm sorry,” clearly he wasn't.
“I just have this condition,” damn right he did. He was a madman.
“Where I can only use my right hand while yelling,” like he couldn't have mentioned this before.
“I'm sorry I didn't mention this before,” what, a fucking mind reader now?
“but I didn't want it to affect our professional relationship,” right, sure.
“but as for our personal relationship,” was he kidding?
“I'd like to see what we can do about that.”
He winked.
“So let me get this straight,” she asked.
“You're right handed?”
He made eyes at her while he nodded.
“The lady in the apartment above me is pretty temperamental, so I don't see how this could work out, but thanks anyway.”
She didn't try and shake his hand.