MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172w)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172w)

With but four days until the ‘busy period’ started, lobby traffic was all but non existent. I checked on the transaction count at 11am and we’d waited on but 20 customers in the two hours we’d been open. I also followed up on the call the Trustee had made concerning painting a sign. I didn’t have the nerve to turn him down and was told that a 4’ by 8’ sheet of plywood would be delivered to my house that afternoon. When I hung the phone up I was really mad at myself for not saying I couldn’t do it. I was sitting at my desk thinking of all the other things I had to do over the weekend when Joanie walked up to break me out of my mini stupor. She pointed to the entry gate to the platform and I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Paul, one of the vendors I’d used for specialty items. The last I’d seen or heard from him about a year ago. At that time he was in the process of getting out of the business and starting a newsletter that was to cover interest rates on the ‘new rage’ taking over in the banking industry… Certificates of Deposit, or CD's. It had been his intention to gather rates from banks all over the country and feature those with the highest and sell subscriptions. Since I hadn’t heard from him I thought he’d gone ahead with his plan… but here he was, at the gate. Paul was tall, about 6’4”, and the guy with him about a foot shorter. I smiled at the image they projected. I went up to greet him and thought he was going to shake my arm off in the process. The first thing out of my mouth was to ask about the newsletter and he proceeded to reach into his jacket and pull out a copy… “Bank Rate Newsletter”. I immediately thought he was going to ask me to buy a subscription which brought forth a laugh.

I invited both of them to my desk and was then introduced to Roger. Roger was a childhood friend of Paul’s wife back in England and had come for a visit. But, I wasn’t interested in Roger. I wanted to know what brought Paul all the way out to the bank from the city. That brought forth another laugh… and a quick explanation. His projections on the acceptance of the newsletter had been way off and he’d had to revert to his old sales job to ‘survive’. The bank had been a good customer for a number of years and he wanted to approach me in person rather than with a phone call… which I thought was nice (and smart). Then he told me that the word was out that we’d be opening a new branch. That kind of shocked me so I asked where he’d heard that. “The State Banking Department” was his answer followed by the fact that all branch applications became public knowledge once submitted. I remember wondering why I’d been led to believe that information was kept in abeyance until the application was approved. I quickly brought him up to date on that saying that it was looking like the opening would be in the following year. With that out of the way we started in with the personal stuff.

Paul and is wife had met Elle at the grand opening of the branch and he, being polite, asked about Elle. I told him about her pregnancy and let slip that I was “in the doghouse”. Roger had been pretty much an observer up to then. Upon hearing that he piped up, in his cockney accent, we should plan a trip to Bermuda to "patch things up". I remember thinking ‘where did that come from?’ It turned out that Roger was the manager of a cottage colony in Bermuda. When I told him we’d just been there he, of course, wanted to know where we stayed. When I told him he said that his place was basically next door… and started ‘selling’ the site to me. It seemed like Paul was aiding him because he said that he and his wife would be going in September. As part of Roger’s ‘pitch’ he told me if I had any interest at all to call him at any time and we’d have a room. He just happened to have a picture brochure with him. Monetarily, and with Elle pregnant, I told him it was impossible but thanked him for the offer. He said the offer was good for as long as he was the manager. All I could do was smile.

I got home to find the wood for the sign up laying up against the garage door. It made me mad all over again. I was surprised to find Elle had made supper for me. However, she still wasn’t speaking. I asked a couple of questions but only got a ‘glare’ as a response. While eating, the phone rang and our oldest daughter, Jean, was on ‘phone duty’ for that day. She answered it and came back to say it was Cliffy. I watched Elle’s eyes roll after she heard Jean utter the words. I could recognize from the tone of his voice that it was something important and he wanted to know how fast I could get to the garage. I knew it was pointless to say anything to Elle more than where I was headed. Even though it was after 6pm when the shop usually closed the big door was still up. I could see Dick, Buster and Alan over at the workbench just inside the door. I was surprised to see RoBob, the part time pit crew member, there as well.

Cliffy didn’t waste any time and asked me the status of the money for the cylinder heads I’d returned to Neil. I’d told him, over the phone, that I couldn’t get the cash but that we had a credit with the dealership. I remember thinking what was going on. The short version was that Robob had a contact at the General Motors plant near Buffalo NY that made a lot of the parts for the 427ci Chevy engine and could get us a set of the new aluminum heads that were now becoming available in limited supply. The interest in them wasn’t because they’d give us more horsepower but in the fact that they’d reduce the overall weight of the car by a couple hundred pounds.  However, we would have to go up there to get them right away and it was an eight hour (at best) trip. What amazes me, even today, was that the discussion centered around who it was that would go and not how much they were going to cost, me included.

In earlier posts I introduced you to my friend, “Big B” and his short lived racing career. He was (for the most part) an over the road marine supplies salesman. He covered all of the state including the Buffalo area. Being Spring, sales for marine parts were ‘over the top’ and because of it I hadn’t seen him in a while. The talk about Buffalo had made me think of him and I told the others (who also knew him) there was a slight chance he was still up there. Amazingly, the call to his parents confirmed it and, even better, he was due to call home that night. I had worked with his mother when I worked for the County so had a good rapport with her. I told her it was very important that he call Cliffy at the garage as soon as possible. She, of course, wanted to know what was going on but I told her there wasn’t time for that and hung up on her. Then we waited… and waited… and waited.

There was no time noted in my DayTimer when he finally called but as I remember it, it wasn’t really all that long. However, to us it was an eternity. In the meantime, Robob called his contact to let him know we were definitely interested and were working on getting someone to go and pick the heads up. When we told “Big B” what we needed him for he was more than willing to do it but asked the inevitable question… what was he supposed to do for money. Cliffy was on the phone and had been talking ‘a mile a minute’. Then, he stopped talking completely. Looking at the four of us he said but one word… and in a questioning tone… “Money?”

To be continued…