Friday, June 08, 2007
A further update on the business: turns out that the space Chuck the Schmuck referred to was the same space we originally talked about. How 'bout that? He claimed to have 2 proposals out to other companies for about twice what we talked about. I don't buy that for a second. Anyway, I responded with a counter-offer. I'm sure he was shocked to find my counter-offer was actually for LESS (not MORE) than we originally talked about, but basically I called his bluff and said 'if you can get a lease signed for that amount, go for it'. Then I outlined why my business would bring more business to the entire mall, resulting in more money for their company than what's simply in my lease. I sent that 5/30. Eight days ago. Still no response. Not even the auto-responder he sets when he's out of the office. Nada. I am trying to stifle my impatience.
In the meantime, my father called and told me that his company would be paying him a nice bonus after June 1st. I had to S-W-E-A-R not to tell anyone--especially my mother--but he would be able to loan me the @$4k that I need for my downpayment. First of all, wow. Every now and then my parents will shove a $20 in my pocket on my way home from a visit, and my mom writes a check for my birthday and christmas, but they do NOT give their kids money, or lend it, for anything other than that. Never have they ever done such a thing. No car payments, no rent payments, no emergency bailouts. This is a big damned deal. And it takes SUCH a huge load off my mind, you have no IDEA. Then just yesterday, my sister called, and among other things, informed me that once I have my lease negotiated, she'll gladly write me a check for $1k, interest-free.
My family has become a sect of Pod People.
Speaking of weird, I have a confession to make. Rusty, I have to apologize first--this shouldn't be the first place you hear of this, but I just didn't have the plums to tell you. Recently, Kit delivered a much-belated Christmas gift from their maternal grandmother. It was one of those pass-it-around things that people kept forgetting for months on end. I can see now why it was not regarded as a high priority. Granny is living on assistance, first of all, so we don't expect anything in the way of gifts from her, but add to that the complication the fact that the Taste Fairy skipped right by her and left footprints on her back. Bless her heart. No really, bless it now before I say anything else that might hurt Rusty's feelings. I am HOPING that Rusty chose to display Granny's gift because he loves her. Or maybe he saw the irony and potent KITCH factor in them. Regardless, Granny's gift is now sitting on my television, where we all get to "enjoy" them on a daily basis. Rather than finding a way to serupticiously "accidentally break" them, I am proclaiming here, in front of God and everybody, that these things are hideously ugly and I hate them. I have not yet grown to appreciate the kitch. They don't appeal to the Irony subdivision of my decorating taste. And Jesus Christ on a Razor Scooter, I certainly would never contemplate paying money for them and purposely displaying them in my home for others to see.
Have I mentioned that they're bobbleheads? Well, not traditional bobbleheads--the little puppy heads are hanging on a hook, and when nudged, will nod incessantly. Ironically, I do have a small collection of bobbleheads, which are loved purely for their extreme kitchiness. Most are cartoon characters, or celebrity bobbleheads in the 'classic' style. They are intended to be a joke, though, and I don't display them on my television. A few are grouped on the mantle above my kitchen sink, where I never intended to leave them because there is no space in this apartment to leave them anywhere else. And now I've taken a hard right onto Defensive Avenue. Sorry. Back to the point: they're awful. Perhaps when the coffee shop finally opens, I'll start a Hall of Kitch display, and they can be the first offending guests. But I sincerely want them to be put away somwhere that I don't have to view them anymore.
In the meantime, my father called and told me that his company would be paying him a nice bonus after June 1st. I had to S-W-E-A-R not to tell anyone--especially my mother--but he would be able to loan me the @$4k that I need for my downpayment. First of all, wow. Every now and then my parents will shove a $20 in my pocket on my way home from a visit, and my mom writes a check for my birthday and christmas, but they do NOT give their kids money, or lend it, for anything other than that. Never have they ever done such a thing. No car payments, no rent payments, no emergency bailouts. This is a big damned deal. And it takes SUCH a huge load off my mind, you have no IDEA. Then just yesterday, my sister called, and among other things, informed me that once I have my lease negotiated, she'll gladly write me a check for $1k, interest-free.
My family has become a sect of Pod People.
Speaking of weird, I have a confession to make. Rusty, I have to apologize first--this shouldn't be the first place you hear of this, but I just didn't have the plums to tell you. Recently, Kit delivered a much-belated Christmas gift from their maternal grandmother. It was one of those pass-it-around things that people kept forgetting for months on end. I can see now why it was not regarded as a high priority. Granny is living on assistance, first of all, so we don't expect anything in the way of gifts from her, but add to that the complication the fact that the Taste Fairy skipped right by her and left footprints on her back. Bless her heart. No really, bless it now before I say anything else that might hurt Rusty's feelings. I am HOPING that Rusty chose to display Granny's gift because he loves her. Or maybe he saw the irony and potent KITCH factor in them. Regardless, Granny's gift is now sitting on my television, where we all get to "enjoy" them on a daily basis. Rather than finding a way to serupticiously "accidentally break" them, I am proclaiming here, in front of God and everybody, that these things are hideously ugly and I hate them. I have not yet grown to appreciate the kitch. They don't appeal to the Irony subdivision of my decorating taste. And Jesus Christ on a Razor Scooter, I certainly would never contemplate paying money for them and purposely displaying them in my home for others to see.
Have I mentioned that they're bobbleheads? Well, not traditional bobbleheads--the little puppy heads are hanging on a hook, and when nudged, will nod incessantly. Ironically, I do have a small collection of bobbleheads, which are loved purely for their extreme kitchiness. Most are cartoon characters, or celebrity bobbleheads in the 'classic' style. They are intended to be a joke, though, and I don't display them on my television. A few are grouped on the mantle above my kitchen sink, where I never intended to leave them because there is no space in this apartment to leave them anywhere else. And now I've taken a hard right onto Defensive Avenue. Sorry. Back to the point: they're awful. Perhaps when the coffee shop finally opens, I'll start a Hall of Kitch display, and they can be the first offending guests. But I sincerely want them to be put away somwhere that I don't have to view them anymore.
Comments:
Post a Comment
