Wednesday, September 17, 2008

So, about organized crime...

You know how I joke about getting into organized crime? How it seems like a no-brainer--less regulation, no taxes, and you don't get fired, just dead? Well, once again I see the value in it.

My hell weekend a couple of weeks ago still isn't over. The guy with the 17th century French furniture still hasn't paid me. "You trust me, right?" he said after we'd finished the job. His checkbook was packed away somewhere, he said. I should have said "No," but I said "Yes."

No, I didn't trust him because he was merely asking for trust--he hadn't earned it.

Now, two weeks later, he's ignoring my e-mails and I'm out a significant amount of money, although it's not much to brag about. I'm giving serious thought to showing up on his doorstep with a Louisville Slugger. Just to show him, you know.

In the end I'll probably just eat it, but not before I leave about 30 messages on his cell phone.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

What do 17th century French furniture and the arms of men who don't pay their mover have in common? Capice?

jimi