One year ago today: March 2017, a generic day.
Five years ago today: March 2013, quoted in Michigan.
Nine years ago today: March 2009, early e-shopping comments.
Random years ago today: 2016, March , useful real estate sites.
I put the brakes on the hot dog cart. Things were moving too fast and there is no need for that. Instead, I took the morning and prepped the north bedroom wall, then went around town for materials. That’s plenty for me. Then a quick planning meeting with Agt. R, who it turns out has worked concessions before. But not run his own operation. I feel the guy who is selling is not desperate enough and I want to know where he bought it from. I mean, how do I know it is brand new unless he bought it direct from a factory or similar?
Who recalls two years ago I mentioned some institutional buyer was snapping up all the distressed properties faster than I could get out to view them. I was right, it is an outfit from Tampa, with a name like Blackwell or Blackwater. They bought everything along the corridor that could possibly be rented out and are poised to make a fortune. I’ll look deeper, but apparently they are renting and not selling as prices climb an average 18.9% in the areas I had looked. Sad but true, only when I will no longer live another business cycle have I begun to see the opportunities before they happen. Life is not fair.
I got Agt. R to help with the bigger pieces of drywall, as in the nearby photo. It’s hard to work with him because everything becomes a rush job. Kind of the opposite of Wallace. This gives me a head start for next week. I’ve decided to go for the new tire on the scooter as well. That means I’m broke to end of the month, it’s another extraordinary expense of $320 that has to be winkled out of other budget allocations. I’ll zip up there this afternoon instead of trying to track down this guy with the hot dog cart. Like I said, he doesn’t seem anxious enough so I’m beginning to question if he really did pay $2,500. Or is he quoting the price paid by whoever he bought it from, as I now suspect.
Texas bluebonnets
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Ha, did you see how the Internet is reacting to the new laws concerning “exploitation” of electronic media for unlawful sexual purposes? The reaction is the sites just close down the sections where these people advertise. I had a field day posting infuriating passages on the rant & rave. I was in the library and bored when I saw the announcement that CL was no longer posting personals. It is always fun to go in there and yank people’s chains. The law makes the host responsible, not the party who placed the ad. America, you are so stupid. Prohibition never works and it never will.
For example, this evening I worked until after dark up in Winter Haven. Some required documentation that had me in the library until closing time. So on the return leg, I stopped at the old club. Yes, it is faster to drive all the way down to Hwy 60 and across than it is to drive through Lakeland. They had those two guitar players who sound like AM radio again. Technically, it is as technical as music can get. But it comes across as what it is, two guitarists playing roughly the same thing. This generated a great amount of interest in my upcoming gig on Sunday. A lot of the regulars have heard me sing Karaoke, but nobody at all has heard me play bass. But let me get to the women part.
There was a table full of gussied-up women. Five of them. As usual, only one was what I’d call desirable or easy on the eyes. It took nearly an hour before I caught her glancing at me. I was in the corner behind the juke box, as I was scribbling down notes. I’ve said before how this is conspicuous behavior around these parts, but not if you use a laptop to do the same. I noticed the good-looking one was getting hit on constantly while her four companions rarely got more than a polite nod. Alas, she was entertaining these passes, sometimes letting these men get a little too close and way too much touchy-feely. Dang, that’s an automatic disqualification.
But soon, one of the fat ones at that table is over asking me what I’m writing. Happens all the time, but never the one I want. I looked up and noticed the sexy one was gone from the table. She saw this and so, what the heck, I asked her where the blonde went. The reaction was, “What blonde.” Doy. So I said let’s dance. I hauled her out on the dance floor and man, was she an easy lead. A really light touch for a gal that heavy. I took her entirely through one of my old dance routines, a West Coast Swing. It would remind you of the jive, but with a lot of moves from a Charleston. We stole the show.
Actually, I was kind of more than showing off. You see, the band was the same one I used as an example of how not to play a gig—it’s a video you haven’t seen. This is also the club where I’ve pointed out how nobody pays attention to the entertainment. This was before this particular band came along, so when they started playing this club around six months ago, the crowd had already been lectured by me on how most guitar players were a fail in this department.
[Author’s note: I have something against these two particular guitar players. They sabotaged one of the bands I tried to get going a year ago.]
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