the best
person (me) win!
She giggled at his arrogant attitude, and
strolled off to finish getting ready.
Joe stood on his veranda, as the fog slowly
gave way to the relentless California sun. While he sipped his
morning java, he looked at his phone to see if she would send one
last text. He hoped she would continue the little trash talk
session. He turned when heard Ernesto's Cadillac pull into the
driveway.
He watched the coastline, as Ernesto walked
up behind him on the Veranda.
“Today's the day boss man.” He said in a
mocking exaggeration of his real accent.
“I know.” Joe replied simply. He swirled his
coffee around in the mug, while a seagull soared around off the
cliff face.
“Ernesto, do you know why farming is such a
rewarding pursuit?” He queried his assistant.
“No, Why?”
“Because of all that prep work and planning.
If you fuck up one step, you lose your entire crop. You can't fake
it, and you can't reschedule it or renegotiate. You're just
screwed, and you have to tell your family that you're all going to
starve before the bank forecloses on your farm. It's absolute.
There's no cheating.” Joe's voice had become distant and
meditative.
“Okay boss, enough of the silly talk, you've
gotta get you're head in the game.” Ernesto said, as he fastened
his suit coat against the morning chill.
“You know what Ernesto? I like her. I really
like her. She's just the type of driven, competitive girl that's
been missing from my life the whole time. I might tell her too, but
she'd probably just laugh in my face and walk away. I can't take
that again.” He tossed the remainder of his coffee over the
railing, and watched as it sprayed out and dissipated in the air.
He turned to walk to the house, and limped a little as the cold
deck chilled the scarred soles of his bare feet.
“Are your feet hurting again boss?” Ernesto
asked with concern.
Joe waved his hand dismissively. “It's no big
deal. I should only have one more surgery left. After that, the
soles of my feet will be back to normal.” He said with a bitter
smile.
That afternoon, Sarah arrived at her open
house with a feeling of dread. She tried to cover all the angles,
but there was only so much you could do while trying to run your
own open house. As she set out her literature, she saw the one
family come on that she would never expect. The Nickersons came in
through the front door, right as Sarah was setting out little
snacks and sandwiches.
“Mr. and Mrs. Nickerson! What a surprise!”
She said with genuine astonishment.
“We talked with Arron Nelson, and he told us
about the little competition that you have with some other realtor.
We both really liked your professionalism in spite of everything,
ans we're putting an offer on the house you showed us the other
day. Well, that is when they finally finish cleaning the little
foam chunks out of it.” Mr Nickerson said with a jovial laugh.
Sarah couldn't believe her luck! She won! All
she had to do was get through today intact, and she was home free!
She jumped up and down like a giddy teenager and hugged the
reserved couple with a death grip. “Oh! Thank you! Thank you! thank
you!” She said, as she bounced up and down.
Across the tract, Joe placed more hot dogs
and burgers on the grill. He had checked all the door handles, and
made sure that the vents were clear. After a thorough sweep, he was
sure that there was nothing that Sarah could do to hamper this
little event.
He had planned a barbeque to help entice the
minister of the most conservative bible church he had ever seen. As
the grill sizzled and smoked, the minister, Mr. John Goodwell came
over to speak with him.
“Joe, my good man! What a beautiful and
glorious day.” He said is a grating, pious tone. Joe simply smiled
and continued flipping burgers. He hated talking with the man, but
he needed the sale, and it meant too much to let it slip through
his fingers.
“Yeah, she's a nice one today...” He
offered.
The
person (me) win!
She giggled at his arrogant attitude, and
strolled off to finish getting ready.
Joe stood on his veranda, as the fog slowly
gave way to the relentless California sun. While he sipped his
morning java, he looked at his phone to see if she would send one
last text. He hoped she would continue the little trash talk
session. He turned when heard Ernesto's Cadillac pull into the
driveway.
He watched the coastline, as Ernesto walked
up behind him on the Veranda.
“Today's the day boss man.” He said in a
mocking exaggeration of his real accent.
“I know.” Joe replied simply. He swirled his
coffee around in the mug, while a seagull soared around off the
cliff face.
“Ernesto, do you know why farming is such a
rewarding pursuit?” He queried his assistant.
“No, Why?”
“Because of all that prep work and planning.
If you fuck up one step, you lose your entire crop. You can't fake
it, and you can't reschedule it or renegotiate. You're just
screwed, and you have to tell your family that you're all going to
starve before the bank forecloses on your farm. It's absolute.
There's no cheating.” Joe's voice had become distant and
meditative.
“Okay boss, enough of the silly talk, you've
gotta get you're head in the game.” Ernesto said, as he fastened
his suit coat against the morning chill.
“You know what Ernesto? I like her. I really
like her. She's just the type of driven, competitive girl that's
been missing from my life the whole time. I might tell her too, but
she'd probably just laugh in my face and walk away. I can't take
that again.” He tossed the remainder of his coffee over the
railing, and watched as it sprayed out and dissipated in the air.
He turned to walk to the house, and limped a little as the cold
deck chilled the scarred soles of his bare feet.
“Are your feet hurting again boss?” Ernesto
asked with concern.
Joe waved his hand dismissively. “It's no big
deal. I should only have one more surgery left. After that, the
soles of my feet will be back to normal.” He said with a bitter
smile.
That afternoon, Sarah arrived at her open
house with a feeling of dread. She tried to cover all the angles,
but there was only so much you could do while trying to run your
own open house. As she set out her literature, she saw the one
family come on that she would never expect. The Nickersons came in
through the front door, right as Sarah was setting out little
snacks and sandwiches.
“Mr. and Mrs. Nickerson! What a surprise!”
She said with genuine astonishment.
“We talked with Arron Nelson, and he told us
about the little competition that you have with some other realtor.
We both really liked your professionalism in spite of everything,
ans we're putting an offer on the house you showed us the other
day. Well, that is when they finally finish cleaning the little
foam chunks out of it.” Mr Nickerson said with a jovial laugh.
Sarah couldn't believe her luck! She won! All
she had to do was get through today intact, and she was home free!
She jumped up and down like a giddy teenager and hugged the
reserved couple with a death grip. “Oh! Thank you! Thank you! thank
you!” She said, as she bounced up and down.
Across the tract, Joe placed more hot dogs
and burgers on the grill. He had checked all the door handles, and
made sure that the vents were clear. After a thorough sweep, he was
sure that there was nothing that Sarah could do to hamper this
little event.
He had planned a barbeque to help entice the
minister of the most conservative bible church he had ever seen. As
the grill sizzled and smoked, the minister, Mr. John Goodwell came
over to speak with him.
“Joe, my good man! What a beautiful and
glorious day.” He said is a grating, pious tone. Joe simply smiled
and continued flipping burgers. He hated talking with the man, but
he needed the sale, and it meant too much to let it slip through
his fingers.
“Yeah, she's a nice one today...” He
offered.
The
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