September 02, 2009
Friday night summation:Stroll downtown to my local haunt to acquire cee-gars for my dad's birthday. While waiting for gift box, order one Corona with lime.
"Another one, Laura?"
It's kinda like Lay's, right? You can't have just one.
Realize there is no foreseeable departure in my future. The game is on. Packers are playing last year's Super Bowl losers, the Cardinals. It's preseason but I see no reason not to make some noise, especially after four touchdown passes. The boys convince me to stick around with a round of shots and game of bar dice during the half.
I love football season.
I also love being able to sleep in on Saturday mornings now that I'm a lazy bum without a job. So when my phone sounded at 8am to the tune of a MotoGP Honda NSR500, I wasn't altogether too impressed. I let my phone shift through the gears and went back to bed.
When I was finally ready to announce my consciousness to the rest of the world, it was well past 9am.
I had three messages. From three different guys. About the purchase of my motorcycle. I totally forgot about my latest Craig's List post and called them all back posthaste -- Conrad, Joe and Scott -- but none of them answered. I left messages and quickly hopped into the shower, hoping to secure a sale at the shop where I left my bike.
"Must sell. Must sell. Must sell."
Mid-shower and phone is pinned (WFO). I reach through the curtain, grab the phone and turn off the water. It's Joe. He asks me twenty questions about the bike and I answer. Then, he gently inquires,
"Is something wrong? Did I catch you at a bad time?"
"Oh, sorry, dude -- I'm seriously freezing my ass off mid-shower here. Heh."
(This may have been a bit more information than necessary but, looking back, I'm fairly certain that Naked Selling worked more in my favor than against.)
Agree to meet Joe at the shop in a half hour. Resume shower. Phone rings again. I answer, thinking Joe has changed his mind or has bad news that he can't get the cash on a Saturday making my rush-a-roo all for naught, and am electronically introduced to Scott.
He asked twenty questions about the bike and I answer. Resume freezing. Tell Scott I'm going to be at the shop in a half hour but warn him that another interested party, Joe, is also planning to meet me there. Scott asks what that means in terms of his purchasing the bike.
"It means whoever hands me the cash first, wins, I guess."
Long pause.
"Okay," says Scott, "I'll be there in a flash."
Finally finish shower. Head out the door with soaking wet hair and a pinch of a hangover. On my way to the shop, a buddy calls to inquire about my bike.
"Uhhh, yeah, Brian, about that..."
Explain situation to Brian. He sighs. Asks me let him know what happens with this little Supermoto love triangle. Hang up phone. Joe buzzes me back. Tells me he found a bank and has the cash in hand. He says he couldn't only get $3500.00 -- $100.00 less than I'm willing to take. I explain to him that I'm about to meet another buyer, Scott, who has the full amount of cash in hand. Joe sighs.
"Guess I gotta hit the ATM quick."
Smile.
Get to shop and hang out with the techs. They miss me. Which is good because I miss them. Moto Marc confides that I was a way better parts-to-service liaison than these "fucking schmucks." I laugh and pretend to let the comment roll easily off my back -- inside I'm hopping around and clapping like a schoolgirl.
Make sure the bike runs. Open the garage door and roll the bike outside. Dude strolls through the rear entrance and introduces himself as Scott. I show him the bike, tell him about the (short) history, offer to let him ride it.
Enter Joe.
"Hey, Laura, I'm Joe. And this must be Scott..."
They shake hands and we all laugh about the situation. Then, silence. With my hands in my pockets and my shoulders raised, I look around at the two boys standing on either side of my bike. I wait for someone else to resume speaking...
"Soooo, what's gonna happen here? Who gets the bike? I've got $3600.00 cash in my pocket." says Joe.
Since Scott was the first to arrive, I state that it's only fair that he gets first dibs. He takes an envelope out of his pocket and starts to hand it to me when Joe breaks in,
"Well, I've got $3650.00 cash, if that makes a difference."
I pause. I look at Joe and turn to Scott. I really didn't want for this be awkward but how can I pass on a higher offer?
Let the bidding begin...
"$3750.00, cash," says Scott. "That's all I have."
I hear $3750.00. $3750.00. $3750.00 going once, going twice--
"$3800.00," rebukes Joe. "Final offer."
Sold!
I take Joe's hat and send him off on a test ride, $3800.00 resting quietly in the pocket of my hoodie.
Marc pokes his head outside the shop entrance and just shakes his head, smiling.
"I can't believe you just did that. Seriously. Awesome."
I know, Marc. I know.