A LOT OF WORK... & play too (Part 158h)

A LOT OF WORK… & play too (Part 158h)

When we’d finished counting the bigger bills the total was around $2,200. Most of them were 5’s and 10’s with only a few any larger. There were a lot of singles but we put off counting them. After getting the girls tucked away for the night we went back to pick up the mess we’d made. I remember laughing as we tried to put the money in stacks and then having them recoil themselves. When we finally got done we sat there looking at the paper bags we’d put it all in and laughing once again. But then it was time to try and figure out where it had come from and who it had belonged to. I’d already found money hidden in the back of the the cedar closet up in Anne’s bedroom soon after we’d moved in. I pretty much figured out that it had belonged to the family that had built the house and took steps to return it. They didn’t know if it was or wasn’t theirs and suggested that we give half to our church or to a charity and to keep the other half. I felt that was fair and it sure helped us out at the time. At this point in time we’d reached the point where we’d winnowed down the ‘need’ portion of our want/need list and were looking forward to attacking the ‘want’ side. Here was the opportunity… but… my conscience got in the way when we started talking about what to do with the money.

As I’ve written previously, I’d had it in mind to do something special for our 10th wedding anniversary coming up in October. We’d not had an actual honeymoon and, until we went to Florida a few weeks earlier, had never been on a vacation trip. I’d managed to put some money away for our anniversary but had dipped into it during the trip to Florida. The money I’d just found would more than take care of that so that’s were my primary thought was. I was about to tell her of my plan for that when my conscience took over.

We ended up discussing the fact that it probably belonged to the people who’d built the house just like the money found hidden in the closet. But, we couldn’t figure out why, if it was the same person, they had chosen to bury it in a jar out in the garden. We agreed that it was probably a completely different individual… but there was no way find out or to know. Because of that we were leaning towards the idea of not even trying to find out who might’ve buried it. But my thoughts went back to solution put forth on the ‘closet money’ where I gave half to charity and kept the other half. When I expressed that to Elle she said I was being way too generous. She pointed out that some of the ‘want’ items on our list were for the house citing for one, the need for aluminum screen and storm windows for the second floor. Her one complaint about the house was that it was always drafty. I couldn’t disagree but I knew I’d feel guilty if we took and used all of the money. We decided not to make any decisions that night and to sleep on it. However, in my case, I couldn’t sleep.

In spite of my continuing desire to go to the early service at church I waited and went with Elle and the girls. It turned out to be the solution to my dilemma. For a reason that I no longer remember, our minister wasn’t there and we had a Franciscan monk in his place (sandals and all). The talk he gave was very inspiring and practical as well. Rather than ‘fire and brimstone’ or the Gospel, he implored the parishioners to dedicate their time and resources to making sure our infrastructure (the church building) was strong so that there would always be a place to worship. It hit home to me since I was on the vestry and knew of all the things that needed to be done… primarily a new oil burner. By the time we returned home I knew what I was going to do… purchase the needed furnace. After paying for it, whatever was left we’d keep for ourselves. Elle, reluctantly, agreed.

I stopped at the plumbing and heating company that service the burner at the church on my way to work. I told the owner what I was going to do and got him to agree not to charge for the installation. Total cost… approximately $750. Driving to work I was excited because that meant Elle and I had at least $1,500 that we could call ours. (and we still had to count all the singles ($1) that we’d initially ignored). I found it somewhat amazing that I’d continued to find money. It was the third time for a sizable amount. 
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It’s sort of funny, writing about this right now, at this time. Yesterday I found a prepaid debit card in the parking lot of a local supermarket. There’s no obvious way to know who it belongs to. Figuring that the owner wouldn’t realize that it was lost for a while I headed back to our apartment planning on calling the market after a few hours to inquire if anyone had either called in or had stopped back inquiring about losing a card. Since it’s just like cash I was reluctant to just give it to the store to hold. In any case, I called after a few hours and they said that no one had made an inquiry. I tried again today with the same result. So, I called the telephone number on the card and was told it was classified as a “Gift Card” and, as such, there was no way to trace the owner/purchaser since it was free to be used in any manner that cash would be used by the holder of the card. In other words, it’s mine (ours) and the value left on the card is $626… :-)
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To be continued…

A LOT OF WORK... & some play too (Part 158g)

A LOT OF WORK… & play too Part 158g)

Supper wasn’t quite ready so I headed for what had, at one time, been a formal garden behind the garage. I’d cleaned most of the dead stuff out and had re-established the grass paths but hadn’t planted anything… a combination of not enough time and not wanting to spend money on unnecessary things. But free plants took that part of the equation away. Elle had told me it would be about a half hour until she’d be ready. I grabbed a shovel and started turning the old flower beds. Based upon the knowledge I’d gleaned from John (the neighbor farmer to the west), it had been at least a dozen years since the gardens had been tended to. The soil in our area is a sandy loam which doesn’t usually get too packed, or hard. But, since no one had touched it in all that time I found it a chore and was sorry I’d started it. Jean came out to tell me supper was almost ready and to come in and wash my hands. I’d just about finished with one quadrant and wanted to finish it so drove the shovel in one more time… but it didn’t go very far.

As I mentioned above, the soil was a sandy loam and good for growing potatoes, other veggies and flowers. One thing farmers didn’t have to worry about was rocks that could break their equipment. Knowing that I was sure that I hadn’t struck one… but just what did I hit was the question. I made a couple more thrusts into the ground and finally got the blade to go in. I then tried to pry what I’d hit up and out of the way. As I did I could hear Elle, with a bit of exasperation in her voice, call me to come in the house. But, whatever it was that I’d hit was now, slowly rising out of the ground and I wanted to see just what it was.

At first all I could see was what looked like a clump of dirt. I bent down to pick it up and saw what appeared to be glass peeking through on one end of the clump. It didn’t weigh all that much so I, still holding it in my one hand, tried knocking the dirt away from that area. It was like it was welded to whatever it was. I wasn’t making much headway so went around the building into the garage to get something to pry it off. Without going into the trunk of my car and into my tool box all I could find was a screw driver. Elle made me jump when she walked up to the doorway and demanded to know what I was doing. By that time I could see it was a jar of some sort and told her I’d found it in the garden. It was obvious she didn’t care because she was mad that I’d not come when I’d been called so I put it down and followed her into the house.

There wasn’t much conversation while we ate and I knew the reason… she was just like her mother and when the meal was ready to eat she expected everyone to be there. As soon as we were all finished I headed back to the garage. It took but a few minutes to find out what I had… a sealed Mason jar with something indiscernible inside. As soon as I tried to release the latch it disintegrated. Even though the metal was galvanized, over time and in wet dirt it had rusted through in a couple of places. The next challenge was to get the glass lid off. It looked like the rubber gasket used to seal it had melted and the two parts were glued together. The trusty screw driver came in handy but not the way I’d intended. When prying between the two part proved futile, frustrated, I decided to hit the top with the handle and broke the neck of the jar. I picked up what was left of the jar and looked inside.

I’m sure you’ve received some surprises in your lives… and I had too. But, seeing money, in a roll, stuffed into the remains of the jar was the biggest one I’d experienced in my life. To get it out I had to break the rest of the jar. As I did I wondered how whoever had placed it there managed to get it through the neck of the jar as the wad was about 3 inches wide. The bill that was exposed was a $20. I wanted to start counting it right then and there but reason took a hold and I headed for the house.

I was so excited that I can’t remember what I said to Elle when I handed the roll of bills to her. In fact I’m not sure what she said at that moment either. I wanted to start counting but I remember telling her that I’d found the jar in the garden before we did. It was a real job to count. I had no way of knowing how long it had been buried there and as we tried to peel the bills apart they were curled and wouldn’t stay flat. When we’d counted over $2,000 we had bills all over the kitchen counter, in the sink and on the floor. Neither of us could believe it. Then, Elle stopped and with a look on her face I’d never seen before asked if there might be more jars out in the garden. I’d not given that a thought and with greed now the ‘driver’, we headed back outside. I don’t know how many thrusts with the shovel I made into the ground but I know it was dark when we came back inside and with nothing to show for the effort. It was actually funny to walk into the kitchen and see all the green paper, curled up and all over the place. I remember standing just inside the door and putting my arms around Elle, giving her a big kiss and squeezing her butt.

To be continued...

A LOT OF WORK... & play too (Part 158f)

A LOT OF WORK… & play too (Part 158f)

Driving home from the shop I had to go past the driveway of Bill (the principal) and Phyllis’ house. There were a whole bunch of trucks and workers in their driveway. Being a Saturday afternoon and late, at that, I was curious as to what was going on. As soon as I pulled up to my garage I headed for the opening in the hedge between the two properties. The first thing I saw was a trench between the garage and the house. Bill was in a folding chair watching the workers. I asked what was going on. He said he’d like to know as well. He did know the trench was to hold a new electric line between the two buildings. It was part of the work that the owner was doing before the new owner moved in. When he told me that I immediately remembered the times that the house had lost electric power whenever there was a storm. It was because the main power line went directly to the garage and an auxiliary line ran from there to the house. With all the trees in the back yard anytime a limb fell it would take down that line.

We walked towards the back of the property where the new shed had been built. As we did I noticed the new wash line that had replaced the one that I’d helped Bill make and put up. The new one was just three pieces of pipe stuck in the ground with a single line connecting them. That reminded me about his visitors, the German twins, and how I’d envisioned what the clothes line would look like with panties from four teenagers. I asked him how he was making out with them. I made a comment about how hard it must be with them speaking only German. That brought forth a hearty laugh and he explained that they not only could understand English but could speak it fluently. For their last four years of schooling they’d taken classes at an American army base as their mother worked there as a translator. I remember feeling somewhat foolish for asking the question. I’d based my question based upon hearing them answer but one question with a “Jaa”. It made sense that they’d have to know English if they were to attend an American college in the Fall. Dumb me! This was the most relaxed I’d seen Bill. He was always rushing from one place to another. I commented on it bringing forth another laugh… and the answer. Phyllis and the four girls were off being “tourists” and he had no one to tell him what to do. I asked about his new house and that brought forth a frown.

When I’d first heard about the property that he’d bought I knew exactly where it was located. I was a bit concerned because , even though it was considered ‘waterfront’ (on a narrow canal just off a tidal creek), that parcel was one of the very last sold in the development. The reason was that it was subject to flooding during storms. To combat that he’d had to bring in dirt to raise it up. However, when the builder went to pour the footings for the foundation the ground wasn’t stable enough to support the house so they had to put in wooden pilings and then build the house on them. That all took extra time (and $$$) which had put the completion date back. With him having to be out of the rental house by July 1 he was scrambling to find a place for his family to live. Trying to be a good neighbor I told him that if there was anything I could do to help to ask. That brought a smile back to his face and I headed back through the hedge.

I stopped as I got to it though and surveyed the clothes line. I did a quick calculation and if Phyllis did her wash but once a week that would mean there could be as many as 28 panties on the line at one time… a panty fanatic’s delight! It was quite a thought but the problem was to be able to see if it would come through. Working the hours I did it would be hard to make it work out in my favor.

Elle wanted to know where I’d gone. She’d seen my car pull up to the garage and never saw me get out of it. I told her about my visit with the principal and about how he and Phyllis were struggling to find a place to stay after the 1st of July. As soon as I told her about that it was like a light bulb went on and she told me that she’d heard that the buyer of the house was a widow with a son, but didn’t know how old either of them were. We’d both hoped it would be a married couple with young children. With that we both stated that we hoped that she would be a nice neighbor. I remember laughing about how upset Phyllis had made us when she moved in.

The rest of the weekend was spent trying to earn some ‘brownie points’ with Elle, doing little things that had been put off over the Winter. She’d been given a number of flats of flowers. Bob and Phyllis had bought some farm property with the idea of starting a nursery and were giving their friends some of their first plantings just to spread the word. I hated planting flowers but, knowing it was a long Summer and that I’d be off with the racer every Saturday into October, I rolled up my sleeves and became a gardener.

To be continued...

A LOT OF WORK... & play too (Part158e)

A LOT OF WORK… & play too (Part 158e)

Never, in a million years, would I have expected to hear the obnoxious customer volunteer to drive Lillian to the ER… but he did. On a personal basis I couldn’t stand the man. But, he was a successful and well known businessman in town. We sat Lillian up and made up a wet compress for her to hold on her wound. Then we got her to a chair while the customer brought his car up to the back door. By the time Lillian was on her way it was approaching 6pm. As I closed the car door I told her I’d call her mother and then, after closing the bank, I’d go to the ER and would see her there.

No one answered the phone at Lillian’s house so I headed to the hospital. Since I wasn’t a relative I wasn’t allowed to see or talk to her. However, from all the time my grandmother had spent at the hospital I’d made some friends and was able to have a message sent to her to let her know I was there. Initially, they weren’t going to release her to me but one of my ‘contacts’ told her to sign herself out. It was a case of ‘who you know’ to make it all happen. When I saw her walk towards me I was surprised to see a smile on her face. It was one of those stupid ones that sent a message… that she realized that what she’d done (reaching for the file) had been stupid. I smiled in return. Total damage… eight stitches and embarrassment.

Her mother had finally been contacted and I waited until she arrived. I had no idea what she’d look like but when I saw her I swear I thought I was looking at Lillian’s sister. I don’t know if I did a ‘double take’ when she walked into the waiting room but I truly was surprised. Lillian wasn’t actually pretty but definitely classified as cute… especially when she smiled. The one big difference was that Lillian never wore pants… always a dress or skirt. The mother was in a pair of beige slacks that looked like they were poured on. When we headed for the door to leave I followed both women. I’ll admit I put myself in that position for one good reason… the chance for a VPL. I had to wait until they got to the mother’s car and when she helped Lillian into the passenger seat. It was approaching 8pm and definitely dusk but there still enough light to see just what I was hoping for. Because of how tight the pants fit I not only got to see the crotch line but also the leg elastics. I looked at as being a reward for my effort.
   

Not the one I saw but it's close!

By the time I got home it was dark. My dinner, warmed up, was dried out which didn’t make me all that happy. Elle told me Cliffy had called wondering where I was since the next day was the first practice with the racecar. The rest of the crew was getting the truck that was used to haul the car ready. She surprised me by not making a negative comment. I told her I wasn’t going since I’d be gone most of Saturday. I hoped that was worth something as I went to say goodnight to my girls.

Earlier that week I’d told Cliffy that I might have located some sponsorship. The only thing was I’d been so busy I hadn’t followed up on it. Bret had passed on the fact that there was an oil company that had just developed a special oil for racing motors but hadn’t had any success in getting anyone to try it. He’d given me a business card and even with the late hour I figured I’d call. That way I wouldn’t be lying when and if Cliffy asked me about it. I couldn’t believe it when the salesman answered. He represented Quaker State Oil. I identified myself and my association with a racecar. It was easy to tell he was excited and after about 15 minutes he said he’d be at the garage where we kept the car the next morning. I couldn’t commit to anything but the offer he expressed to me seemed like a good one. He’d supply Quaker State oil for us to use and $100 per race. All we had to do was place decals on the car. I called Cliffy to let him know what I’d been doing. I can’t say he was overwhelmed with the news as he expressed some doubt about the quality of the oil. We’d be among the first to use it and we’d be taking a chance if it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be… but he said he’d talk with the salesman.

All my chores were done before 10am and I was off to the garage. The salesman looked anything but like what I expected selling a product like racing oil. He looked more like college professor. His name was Wesley and very laid back. It went well and Cliffy showed he was a bit of a salesman himself as he got the guy to pay us $100 for the practice we were about to attend. He even asked if he could go with us. We got on the road about 11:30am. At that time of day it only took an hour to get to the track. Cliffy had decided not to use our new tires until we were actually racing the car. The only tires we had were just about used up but as Cliffy told us, all we wanted to know from the practice was that everything worked and there were no leaks.

First practice was always exciting just to see who were the new drivers and who had new cars. For me, with this being a track that I’d only attended as a spectator, almost all of it was new. I’d read about some of the drivers in the racing newspapers and only actually knew a few of them. Cliffy didn’t make many laps saying the tires were junk. All in all we were all pretty pleased and couldn’t wait for opening night.

To be continued...

A LKOT OF WORK... & play too (Part 158d)

A LOT OF WORK… & some play too (Part 158d)

It was dusk when I turned the key in the lock when we left. Lorie was all apologetic but, as I’ve written before, I had two routes to choose from to head home and one took me right next to her house. I’d dropped her off a time or two in the past and had noted how close to the road the wash line was. On a few occasions I’d driven that way and had seen panties on the line and had thought about making it my regular route… but didn’t. Her house was right on a corner with a stop light. It seemed that every time I went that way the light would be red for me… and it was as we approached. Stopped, I could see that part of the fence in front of the house was torn up. Lorie told me that the guy had made the turn at high speed and didn’t make it, driving right through the fence and into her parent’s car parked in the driveway. She said the police believed that his foot was still on the accelerator when he hit their car.

Lorie told me not to make the turn but to leave her off on the road along side the house. As I pulled to a stop I, again, noted just how close to the fence the clothes line was. There were but a few small towels hanging there but I could readily see that if I were standing at the fence I could reach over and touch them. As she walked away from the car I could envision panties in place of the towels. A nice thought. After pulling away, further on down the road, I told myself to start using this route both coming and going.

On Friday morning the sales rep and engineer from the telephone company were waiting for me when I arrived. I had too much to do to stay with them so asked Bret to do it for me. He was familiar with our needs so left it up to him to guide them. They were there the whole morning and when they finally left I was told I’d have a proposal by Wednesday.

I’d called Morris to let him know I’d need the paperwork to formally cement the deal. He hadn’t been in the office so I left a message with the woman who worked with him fully expecting a return call. By Friday evening I still hadn’t heard from him but, remembering how disorganized his place was, sloughed it off making a note to follow up the next week. Because I’d not been there the previous two Friday nights I was saddled with the ‘late shift’, working until 6pm. Business was slow so I was happy to be able to get caught up a bit. Just before it was time to close the doors I saw Lillian fall off her stool. Too lazy to get off and easily get a folder behind her she reached for it toppling over hitting her chin on the ledge of the fire safe. From my desk I couldn’t see where she’d landed but immediately ran to the teller area. She was crumpled up on the floor and bleeding from a wound on her forehead.

By the time I reached Lillian, Alice, who had the window next to her, was hysterical and blocking my access to her. I physically had to move her to get a closer look. As I did I could see Lillian roll from her side to her back. When she did she pulled her knees up towards her chest and put out one arm as if she wanted to be pulled up. Instinctively, I reached for her hand before realizing that it would be best to let her lie there and to assess her true condition. I pulled back my hand and bent down to tell her to just relax. As she did I think it was Jax, another teller, who had rolled up a jacket or something and put it under her head.

I know you won’t believe me but in spite of the obviously compromising position Lillian was in and my close proximity to her, I really never paid any attention to her very exposed panties. I was on my knees and close to her face telling her to be calm and to take deep breaths. It wasn’t until I felt something brush by my right hip that I turned back to see what it was. When I did I got a very quick glance at what seemed to be pink panties and saw Alice, now calmed down, trying to cover Lillian’s mid section by pulling down the hem of her dress.

Being a Friday evening (after 3pm) there were only three tellers on duty. Lillian was on the floor, Alice was attending to her along with me while Jaz was hovering over us. No one was paying any attention to the customers. I heard a loud male voice demanding some attention. It took a few seconds for me to recognize it… the owner of one of the drug stores in town (and also an obnoxious customer). I remember thinking he was the last person I needed at that moment. Even with a dozen thoughts flying around in my head the one thing I was focused on was Lillian. By then I was wondering if she should go to the hospital. The bleeding wasn’t all that bad but the gash looked bad. Then I heard the customer again and it suddenly came to me that with him being a pharmacist he could probably tell me. So, in spite of my personal feelings towards him and the fact that customers weren’t allowed in the work area, I had him come to take a look at her.

Alice and I got up to give him access and he didn’t take long to tell us there was nothing critical but that she definitely needed stitches and should go to the emergency room. That created a major problem for me. Who would take her? I couldn’t as I was the only bank officer in the building. As such, I had to see that the cash boxes were in the vault and the vault was locked before I could leave. It was just a bit past 5:30pm and a half hour until the doors closed. Looking at the staff I wasn’t all that confident that any of them wouldn’t freak out with the bleeding if I asked one of them to do it. What to do?

To be continued…

A LOT OF WORK... & play too (Part158c)

A LOT OF WORK… & play too (Part 158c)

While waiting, the sales rep for the telephone company called wanting to set up an appointment to go over what new equipment we’d need to replace the obsolete PBX board. Listening to him I had visions of a vulture hovering over his prey as he started a sales pitch not 30 seconds into the call. I shot him down by telling him that before anything got started a survey of our current needs would be required. The present configuration was, by no means, adequate. We’d added at least five new employees since I’d started who needed their own phones. We agreed that he’d bring an engineer on Friday. Just another project to add to what seemed like a never ending list.

I was meeting with Jerry to see how his ‘list’ of required forms was coming when Trish came over to tell me Hobie was on the phone. I didn’t know what to make of that and when he asked if I could arrange for Morris to come to meet the branch committee the bank and explain just how the billing would work, I could’ve given him the answer right then and there… “No way!”. Disorganized as Morris' operation was, on the surface it had appeared to be a ‘one man operation’. The surprising thing to me had been  that many of his customers were big banks. He’d done me a favor by letting me come to his office and agreeing to supply, by comparison, a piddling amount of premium/gifts. However, I told Hobie I’d call.

As expected, Morris was in his office. At least the laugh I got from him when I asked sounded good natured. Before he hung up I did get him to agree to talk with Hobie. I connected the two of them and dropped off the line. Back to waiting again but this time with a definite negative bent. Five o’clock came and then five thirty. I’d just called Elle to tell her to ahead and eat without me when the first of the Trustees started across the lobby. I was the only one left to let them out the door and it was almost as if I was invisible. It was Gee, the Trustee/attorney, who finally acknowledged me. It was just one sentence… “Good choices and we’ll do well with them.”

My analysis of the makeup of the branch committee members was right on target. When Hobie told me who pushed for the proposal I had a hard time to keep from letting out a little chuckle. It was the same Trustee who was a member of my church and a ‘power broker’ behind the scenes with the school board. I knew how he operated in both those organizations and fully expected to see the same with the premium/gift situation. When Hobie finally appeared and said it was a “Go!” it was a bit anticlimactic. But the decision took one major headache off my list.

The next morning we were back up and running as far as being on-line with the data center was concerned. However, we had a real backlog of transactions that needed to be posted. Bruce, from the data center, called to say that the phone company had found some “glitches” in how they’d configured some of the switches and the service should be better. That was the good news… the bad was that the interruptions would continue. As the phone company added more and more customers who would be using data transmission, each time a new customer got ’switched on’ there was the potential for a disruption. It was like a cloud over my head.

It was Thursday that I finally got back to meeting with Jerry and his ‘assignment’. I could’ve saved him the time because I had a folio of every form the bank used but I wanted him to do the actual research. I almost knew before we started that he wasn’t even close to having a complete set of the forms and I was right. He didn’t have even one form from the mortgage department. I was laughing (at him) when I asked how could he, running a branch of a bank who specialized in mortgage loans, not have application forms to offer the public. In my mind the guy was a loser and there wasn’t anything I could do to change the Trustees decision to hire him. By the time we finished up I’d identified, off the top of my head, at least a dozen missing forms he’d need. Walking back to my desk I had the feeling that I’d be making any number of trips to the branch to clean up ‘messes’ that he’d create.

Speaking of messes, I had one of my own. Because we were now into May and the ‘books’ of the bank had to be closed as of April 30, I had to see that all the deposit and withdrawals for the last few days when we’d been off-line were posted. I asked for volunteers to stay after hours to get it done and had a fair response. The one who I didn’t expect was Lorie. Now a supervisor with no teller experience, she stepped up to see the project through. The only caveat to her offer was that she needed a ride home. Her father’s car had been totaled by a drunk driver right out in front of their house. He was a night foreman at a local aerospace facility and had needed her car to get to work. Knowing the importance of getting the posting done I ‘bit the bullet’ and said I’d stay and give her a ride. As her home wasn’t all that far away she would sometimes walk. But, since it would most likely be dark by the time she was finished and there were no sidewalks, she wanted the safety of a ride.

To be continued…

A LOT OF WORK... and a little play (Part158b)

A LOT OF WORK… & play too (Part158b)

Elle didn’t like to be around me when I was in a bad mood so I decided to make it easy on her and told her I was going to letter the racecar when I arrived home. I figured I wouldn’t have to give up any of my new found ‘money’ that way. I’d be out of her sight and would be productive at the same time. It worked out in another way because the rest of the crew weren’t planning on being at the shop and it would make it easier to letter without people on and around the car. After all of the partners had agreed on the colors and number to use I’d designed the layout. I’d made up a sketch but until it was actually applied to the car there was no way to know how it would really look. I was trying to find a way to make our car stand out against the competition, at least as far as it looked. Most cars were of one color and the only contrast was the color of the number on the car. When I finished one side I was really pleased which changed my mood considerably. I finished up around 11pm or so. Driving home I couldn’t wait to see the car on the track.

The package from Morris arrived during the noon hour. I’d told Bret about the choices I’d made and when he saw the box next to my desk he wanted to see what was in it. I wanted to open it in front of Hobie, to get his reaction. I’d told Bret what the items were to somewhat appease him but he was like a kid at Christmas. I caught Hobie’s eye as he returned from lunch and he waved me into his office area. I knew I had to be careful with my presentation so as to not upset him. I laid the premiums/gifts on his desk as I removed them from the shipping carton. I was waiting for a comment but none came. Finally he asked the question I’d been waiting for. Pointing to the mixer and drill… “They have to cost more than $10, don’t they?”

The next ten minutes or so was taken up with me describing Morris and his business. My emphasis was on the fact that these very same gifts had been purchased and given away by some of the large city banks for almost a year. With that fact acknowledged I told him how they got away with it and how Morris was prepared to do the same for us in spite of our small size. I could see that Hobie was uncomfortable with the concept but I hammered on the point that our competition wouldn’t have premiums/gifts any where near as nice. If we (the bank) wanted to make a statement in our new area this was the way to do it. As I talked I felt like I was a clone of Morris with his ‘hard sell’ tactics.

It was fairly obvious that he didn’t like the deception but he suggested we take the premiums up to show Bert. That, in itself, was a plus. Bert, who was a ‘by the books’ manager, rejected the concept right off. However, in what was a complete surprise, Hobie took up my argument about wanting to make a statement in the new area. Bert still wasn’t ‘sold’ but accepted Hobie’s suggestion to take it to the branch committee. With a mortgage committee meeting scheduled for the next day it would only take a few phone calls to have the branch committee there as well.

You already know my feelings about the Trustees and especially the fuzzy thinking that they’d shown in planning for the new branch office. There was one member that I felt would go for the concept and he, although not chairman of the branch committee, had a fair amount of ‘pull’ and could possibly convince the rest of the committee. I walked out of Bert’s office feeling somewhat confident.

My posiitive ‘vibes’ were eliminated when Bret told me that the bank was “off line” meaning our data was not being sent or received by the the data center. An immediate call to them brought forth the news that they had contacted the phone company to run a  full check on all the phone lines that carried the data between the two places. The center had no idea how long it would take. My first reaction was that my complaint to Albie from the night before had gotten some action but… at what cost.

Thankfully, lobby traffic was slow. It was fairly easy to appease customers who were upset since each one could be given individual attention. On the back side of that was the tellers would have to re-enter all those transactions when communication was restored. By the end of the day we still were still ’down’ and I was unable to get any kind of an answer when we’d be operational. It was a case of getting what I wanted but without having figured in the ‘cost’. On my way home I wondered if my implied threat to Albie had been wise.

There was no change in the status of the data communications the following morning. Even though we were not all that busy the re-entry items were piling up. When a number of calls to Albie were not returned I ‘pulled rank’ and called his boss, Bruce. He said he was unaware of the situation but would have an answer by the end of the day. It was definitely not what I wanted to hear but at least it was something.

When I saw the Trustees who were members of the mortgage and branch committees headed for the elevator I got a bit apprehensive. Even though I’d done the ‘dirty work’ of ferreting out the premium/gifts, it was Hobie who would present them. I had mixed emotions about how hard he would push for their acceptance. I knew at least two members of the committee who would vote against them. They had shown their preference for cheap when choosing the premiums/gifts for our first new account campaign. For me, all I could do was wait.

To be continued...

A LOT OF WORK... a little play (Part 158a)

A LOT OF WORK… a little play (Part 158a)

My meeting with Hobie (Bert chose not to join in) about the pending legislation went as well as could be expected. I’m not one who would be called a pessimist or an optimist, preferring the mantle of pragmatist. So, when Hobie asked about costs for implementation I couldn’t give him an answer… and he didn’t like that. He’d thought that was information we’d be given at the conference. When it came to reporting on my meeting with the premium/gift distributor, I knew if I told him the projected cost he’d hit the ceiling. So, I told him I needed to have the premiums/gifts in hand and they would be delivered the next day. That brought forth another frown. I’d been at the bank long enough to get to know Hobie’s traits and when he got into this mood it usually meant trouble. At that point, clearly showing frustration with me, he told me to get with Gerry and work up a list of all the supplies he’d need for the new branch. To me, that was punishment. Hobie knew my feelings about Gerry and to assign me a task like that was a slap in the face.

Back at my desk, Bret came over to me to say the telephone company had come to look at the PBX switchboard. I could tell from the way he approached that the news wasn’t good. The problem was caused by wear and tear and with the equipment being 30 plus years old, they didn’t have replacements for it. In fact, Bret told me that the guy who came to look at it was the only one left at the phone company who knew anything about them. Basically, we needed a whole new system. More bad news!

A call went in to Albie at the service bureau to tell him to activate our order for the teller machines for the branch. His secretary took the message and told me he’d call back. I spent the next bit of time rummaging through the mail stacked on my desk putting off meeting with Gerry. I finally sat down at his desk and asked if he’d thought about the everyday supplies the branch would need. I can still remember the blank stare I got as an answer. Pressing him, I asked how his prior employer handled setting up new branches. Again, a blank stare. I finally got him to say he’d never been a party to the opening of a new branch. By then I was determined that I wasn’t going to lead him around I told him he needed to find every form that we at the main office used and to make up a folio of them. His response… “Why can’t Trish do that?”, like it was beneath him to do such a task. Believe me when I say it took every bit of restraint I had not to scream at him “Because I told you to do it!” As you can see, the morning did not get off to a good start.

By mid afternoon I’d made an appointment with a sales rep from the telephone company about replacing the PBX switchboard. But I also made a few calls to friends I’d made at local banks to see what they were using for phone equipment. One of the calls was to the bank that Gina had gone to work for. I was tempted to ask about her but at the last second stayed on topic… telephone systems. I didn’t realize it at the time but the call ended up being pivotal in the eventual decision. I was advised to go to an outside manufacturer. I stored that away for future reference.

As far as the teller line was concerned, from a personnel standpoint everything was running smoothly, especially when it came to Lorie. She’d taken to the supervisory part and was quickly grasping all the nuances of the banking regulations. The only problem in the whole area was the intermittent loss of communication with the data center. It annoyed both the tellers and the customers. Still awaiting Albie’s return phone call I decided to make that an ‘issue’ when I talked with him.

I’d only been physically in the building four days over the past two weeks. It felt like I’d been away for a month. I’d hired a new switchboard operator, Mary Carol, right before leaving on vacation and I felt I should follow up with her, especially with the switchboard acting up. One of my favorite things to do when Netta was the operator was to climb the stairs hoping to find her in a ‘compromising’ position. Being that Netta was fairly good looking, it was always a thrill to catch her with her legs spread apart. However, Mary Carol wasn’t all that attractive and was a bit overweight. On my trip up the stairs I found exactly what I would’ve hoped for when Netta was there… knees spread apart... but thighs heavy enough to block the ‘view’.

Albie finally returned my call just as I was about to leave for the day. When I told him to go ahead and place the order for the two teller machines I could hear the change in the tone of his voice. He'd always been 'straight' with me as far as handling problems but I had a bad feeling when he told me that the machine manufacturer was behind on deliveries. It had been the same story back before we made the conversion in December and it seemed strange that nothing had changed in four months. Having not had a good day I 'exploded' on him telling him  that he better come up with two machines by mid June. I didn't have the authority to issue an "or else" or I would've. Not satisfied to end the conversation there I brought up the continuing dropped connections. On this topic I did have some leverage as I had friends at a bank the service center was trying to bring on board as a customer for data services. I closed the call on a very 'cold' note telling him to come up with a solution to the problem by the end of May.

To be continued…

HOME AGAIN... to some surprises (Part 157l)

HOME AGAIN… to see surprises (Part 157l)

I wasn’t sure what Elle’s reaction would be when I walked into the kitchen. Surprisingly, she seemed apologetic. I liked it when she was in that mode. Usually, it was like ‘money in the bank’ when it came time for me to want something that Elle wasn’t all that enthusiastic about. She explained her reasons for not coming to pick me up and I, taking advantage the situation, told her I understood and let the topic die. With her in a relatively good mood and the kids outside I decided that a quick visit up her skirt was in order. I, truthfully, wasn’t expecting anything so when I felt her panties I was a bit surprised to find them damp. But there was something else. I felt the nylon satin but there was something more. I’d felt her when she wore two pair of the ‘dribble panties’ but the feel this time was way different. I pulled back and asked her what she was wearing.

She hesitated and told me she had a couple of ‘accidents’ during the week explaining that instead of getting a bit of a warning that she had to find a toilet in the form of a little squirt or dribble as usual, it had been much more. I probably had a somewhat puzzled look on my face so she continued. Her 4H group had a field trip first thing in the morning. Not knowing just what she'd find in the way of rest rooms at their destination she thought it might be a good idea to wear a sanitary pad between two panties. I knew she sometimes wore a partial package that included a sanitary pad and pair of sanitary panties over everything so I asked why she hadn’t done that. All I got was a shrug. I remember asking if it had helped and she said it did… there was no puddle… this time. The ‘this time’ had me going. I asked why she hadn’t told me and I got a quick retort… “because you weren’t here”. Thinking back, she was right. I hadn’t been home either Thursday or Friday nights and I wondered what I'd missed.

As interesting as all that was I definitely needed something to eat. All I’d eaten were two stale donuts back at the train station in the city around 8:30am. After eating I went and changed my clothes and found the boxes with the electric hand mixer and drill I’d got from Morris. When I gave the mixer to Elle she wanted to know what had prompted me to buy her that. I could hear the accusatory tone in her voice but showed her my electric drill and told her of my meeting with Morris. That calmed her down but I still had my regular Saturday chores ahead of me. I knew I’d promised to help work on the racecar and had a brief thought of using my newly minted ‘money’ to tell her I was going to the shop. But, I decided I’d call Cliffy to see if I was really needed. He wasn’t happy but acknowledged that they were almost finished up with the painting of the car. He did tell me when the paint dried it would be ready for me to put the numbers on. He didn’t come right out and say it but I got the hint he expected me to do it the next day.

When I went back outside to collect the garbage pails and other trash I could see that the twins were now participating in the activity. They were in the process of making a pyramid and the twins had been placed on the bottom as they were the biggest. I went over to observe and could see they were laughing. I could also see that when my girls had climbed up on one of their backs she’d dragged the hem of her dress up with her. I didn’t want to be too obvious as I worked my way over to be somewhat behind them. I was at about a 45 degree angle to them and it was enough to see a nice, round butt cheek encased in pink. I was about fifteen feet away and it was my guess the panties were nylon. As I observed them I wondered if German made panties were different than the ones made in the USA.

I had no reasonable reason to stay where I was so I finished loading up the station wagon and headed for the town landfill. On my way I got to thinking about the twins and all the panties that they would add to the next door wash line. It reminded me that the last time I’d been over to their yard there was no wash line at all. I made a mental note to find a way to check it out during the week.

Upon my return Elle kind of casually let it be known that the ‘group’ was having a party that night. I’d not told Elle about being told by Bob that they wanted me to run for the school board. So, when I heard her mention a party for that night I knew what it would be about… and I wanted no part of it. I fabricated some excuse why I didn’t want to go and she accepted it. I was under enough pressure at work and surely didn’t need to run for the school board to add to it.

I think it rained on Sunday because I don’t remember doing much of anything. With what I knew lay ahead of me at work for the upcoming week it was a welcome respite. I did go over in my mind just what I was going to report to Hobie and Bert about the conference and the pending legislation. I’d come away from it feeling that we (the bank) could get away without spending a lot of money… and that thought reminded me about the gifts we’d be buying for the grand opening of the new branch. Morris had ‘sold’ me on the four items but I hadn’t done the math to calculate just how much they would actually cost after adding in his ‘consulting' fees. I knew it would be an interesting week.

To be continued…

A very short 'Time Out"... Hopefully...

A vert short "Time Out"... hopefully...

Elle's surgery went well... although not without a number of delays on the actual day (three delays). She was supposed to be discharged yesterday, the day after the surgery, but, believe it or not, she 'failed' Occupational Therapy and they wouldn't release her. She'd persuaded me to spend the night of her surgery on the small love seat in her room... painful!!! So, staying the second night was even more so. The O T lady was nice and made us her first stop. I guess the panty gods were watching over me and rewarded me for my pain as the OT lady had an assistant with her today... an attractive young blonde wearing pink scrubs. As soon as I saw her I was hoping for a VPL but not expecting one. The session was almost over when the OT lady got a phone call and had to leave. The assistant was left to finsih up the paperwork and to pick up the materials they had used to demonstrate what Elle would be doing in her rehab sessions... and that's when I, more or less, hit the 'jackpot'... a VPL with a crotch line. (It's been a while.) But the best was yet to come... a DP! And it was a shocker. Almost all the recent DP's I've witnessed have been with thongs (YUK!), especially the younger, and fairly attractive ones. But this was an old fashioned one in which the young lady was wearing full briefs. The scrubs were obviously the more modern style with the waist line being somewhat lower than her natural waist. That gave me at least two inches of ivory colored shiny nylon panties to view as she picked up the weights and tension elastics off the floor. At the same time I was also able to see that the panties weren't high thighs but the old fashioned style like Elle wears. If I was to make a complaint it would be that the panties were definitely manufactured recently. The crotch line was a straight line from side to side and not the old fashioned curved style. However, I took the sighting to be a reward for two nights of poor and painful sleep.

BTW; The blog will continue tomorrow. Our middle daughter came to visit with Elle (and me) and didn't leave until after 11pm. I figured I'd just write about my good fortune tonight and continue on when I'm not as tired. Hope you enjoyed...

PM

HOME AGAIN... to some surprises (Part 157k)

HOME AGAIN… to some surprises (Part 157k)

Certainly not expecting that, I hesitated before answering. I don’t remember much of what Bull said except I distinctly remember him looking at Bitsy and in a questioning way saying “OK?”. I also remember the look on her face. I can still see her eyes, wide open, just as if a firecracker had gone off in front of her while walking down the street. As much the idea of sleeping in the same room as a very cute woman was tempting, I just couldn’t accept the offer. I was ‘safe’ in that I hadn’t told them about my disdain of going to my aunt and uncle’s house so when I explained who I was calling I came across as doing the ‘family thing’.

My aunt was, for lack of a better description, ‘ a pill’. My uncle was my mother’s brother and he was a ‘good guy’ but I rarely ever saw him because of my aunt. She was a control freak and ordered everybody, and I mean everybody, around. Fortunately,  I was able to contact my uncle who was a corporate attorney in the city. He had no problem with it and we agreed to meet at the train terminal.  I don’t know how long it had been since I’d been to their house. My cousin was still living at home at that time and I knew she’d gotten a teaching job some distance away. I won’t bore you with details except to say, as expected, it was painful. When it came time to go to bed I had one glimmer of something positive in that I was to sleep in my cousin’s room. I’d been told she usually came home on Saturdays so there was the thought she might still keep some clothes there. When I got the chance a peek into her dresser it was disappointing… the only panties were peach colored cotton ones that looked like they might go halfway to her knees. Free of my relatives I was finally able to think about what I’d experienced during the day. My focus was, naturally, on Bitsy.

Lying there in the darkness there was one thing that didn’t seem right. Bull had told me he was married for his senior year and also told me that his first child was born right after graduation. For him, that would have been eight years ago. My problem was that Bitsy, to me, looked like she was in her early 20’s. I did the math and figured that if she’d been 18 when she married that would make her 26 years old. No expert on judging age, I just couldn’t believe she was more than 20 or 21. Another thing that was puzzling was her panties. I’d noted when inspecting them that she’d brought four pair for just two days… and two were cotton and two were nylon. I fell asleep wondering if I’d ever see her again.

+++++++++++++++++++++
I'm going to break from tradition here... Normally, I'll let a 'thread' die to be picked up again, further on. In this case I'm going to close it out.

About ten years ago, Elle and I, both retired, decided to go on a week long trip on a small cruise ship (about 20 cabins) to visit the islands of New England. There were two employees of the tour company assigned to the boat. On one of the stops I ended up chatting with one of them... a middle aged female. Somehow, we ended up talking about colleges and I mentioned mine. Her immediate response was to say her father went there as well. When I asked what year he graduated she answered 1960. I told her my year was 1959 and asked what his name was. When she told me I almost shouted "BULL!". The look on her face was priceless. "I haven't heard him called that in at least thirty years. He was my father!"

She told me he'd died a few years back. I told her about my being a banker like her father and that we'd met up at a few conferences and how, at one, I'd met her mother. Hearing that her demeanor changed. "My mother never went to a bank conference with him!" I proceeded to tell her about how I'd met the woman I thought was her mother and been told her name was "Bitsy". That brought forth laughter and she then told me that she was "Bitsy". She'd been given the nickname "Itsy Bitsy" because she'd been born premature, weighing only 3 1/2 pounds. It got shortened to just "Bitsy" when she started to talk.

That had me really puzzled... but for only a few seconds as she, almost laughing, explained that the woman I'd met had been his secretary. She went on to tell me that Bull eventually divorced her mother and married her. She was, for a while, her stepmother. After the divorce her mother had gained custody of both her and her brother and she had very little to do with her father until she was about 20 and after he'd divorced the woman I'd thought was "Bitsy". I asked if she had any idea why Bull had introduced her to me with that name. I remember her looking at me smiling but with a somewhat questioning look. "We never knew what he was thinking or doing."
+++++++++++++++++++++

I got home just after midday. When I pulled my car up to the garage I saw Mo and Barbara from next door playing with my girls. But, there were two other older girls there as well. It took a few seconds for me to remember that their German cousins were coming to spend a month or so. I sat behind the wheel watching them as they stood and observed the others doing a mix of tumbling and cheering. Both the girls were blonde with hair to their shoulders. They were both taller than Barbara and Mo and were a little on the ‘chunky’, but not fat, side. I wondered if they knew any English at all.

As soon as I stepped out of the car my three girls came running over. They were all excited… not to see me but to introduce me to their new friends, Herta and Helga. I walked over to where they were standing and, if there was one thing that stood out about them it was their breasts. I just remember they were wearing long sleeve blouses and the cleavage was impressive. I also remember hearing something like “Jaa” when I asked if they were having fun.

To be continued...

HOME AGAIN... to some surprises (Part 157j)

HOME AGAIN… to some surprises (Part 157j)

Bull took immediate control of the situation but it took a few minutes for it all to be explained satisfactorily. By then my watch told me there was no chance at all to make the train. Then Bull formally introduced me to his wife, Bitsy, who explained that she’d taken an earlier train in to the city. She went to the hotel main desk, identified herself and been given a key to the room. As that was being explained I had a chance to take a close look at her. When I first saw her by the window the brightness of the daylight behind her had  blocked out most of her facial features. Now I had a chance to study them and she was very, very cute. As I mentioned earlier, Bull was a year behind me in college and hadn’t been a part of my circle of friends in the fraternity. If Bitsy had been Bull’s guest at any of the house parties I wouldn’t have remembered her. I remember thinking that he’d definitely picked a ‘winner’ as far as looks were concerned.

As interesting as that was I had a definite problem… how to get home. The trains ran until 8pm or so but only as far as where the bus had delivered me… which was about half way or 45 miles from home. I explained the situation and asked Bull if I could make some phone calls. My idea was to try get Elle and to have her drive to the town where the train stopped. But, there was no answer. My guess was that she was doing the grocery shopping and I’d have to wait for a while until she got home. Bitsy and Bull had left as she wanted to do some shopping before going to dinner and the theater so I was all alone. Sitting there thinking of just how to solve my problem I saw Bitsy’s suitcase on a luggage rack. They hadn’t said anything when they left other than “Good luck!” so I didn’t know exactly where they’d be going or how long they’d be gone. I figured that if I was going to take a peek inside I better get it done.

Some people are organized and some aren’t. Elle was a very organized person… everything in it’s place. I popped open the latches of the suitcase and saw what I would’ve expected to see if it belonged to Elle… neatly stacked piles of clothes. In fact, it was so neat that I wondered if she’d even gone into it since she arrived. I did debate with myself as to if I wouldn’t be better off to just skip peeking this time… but the debate didn’t last long. As carefully as I could I moved things around looking for the ‘pot of gold (or white, blue pink, etc.)’ but the best I found was a slip. To say I was disappointed is to put it mildly. When I assured myself that I hadn’t missed anything and that everything I’d touched was back in place I closed the suitcase up. It was back to the phone again.

My guess had been right… Elle had been at the supermarket (new to our town) and was definitely not in a good mood. When I asked if she could/would come pick me up her response was less than lady-like. When she got to the third reason why she wouldn’t I knew I was stuck. Then she asked why I hadn’t called Cliffy since he was always picking people up at the airport. It was a reasonable idea. But, for that to happen I had to speak with him. When I called the shop the mechanic that worked only on farm equipment answered. I’d known “Nobby” since I was about eleven or twelve. He could definitely be classified as ‘different’. I won’t go into it but if I’d heard him say more than three or four words at any one time it wasn’t all that often. All I got from him was “He ain’t here!” and then the sound of a disconnect. Then I tried to get Bret at the bank before he left but had completely forgotten that he didn’t have a car on Fridays as his wife, now a practical nurse, needed it. The one option I had left was to take the train and then a taxi… if I could persuade one to travel that far.

By then I had to use the toilet. Once inside the bathroom I spied a small Samsonite travel case on the counter… and it was open. I just had to look inside and there, right before my eyes, was the prize (or I should say, prizes). Bitsy had removed all her cosmetics leaving just a few items among them a bra and, much to my surprise, four pair of panties. They were all folded and stacked to one corner. I reached in and carefully lifted them out. I held them up to the bathroom light and could see that two were cotton and the other two were nylon. Making sure I noted how they were folded I opened each one up. All bikinis, the cotton ones were Lollipop, size 5. Inspecting them I could see a fair amount of yellow staining in the crotch area of both. The nylon ones were without a name brand label but would definitely be classified as ‘fancy’ with a combination of lace and appliqués.  Both looked to be fairly new. As I folded them back up I wondered why she brought four pair with only staying two nights. And then there was the question of why two types… cotton and nylon. It was puzzling to me, for sure.

After returning them to the case I went back into the bedroom and tried to come up with another plan for the night. There was one option that I really didn’t want to pursue and that was to call my aunt and uncle to see if I could stay with them. Visiting with them was ‘painful’ and I was just about to call when Bull and Bitsy returned. It was obvious that they were surprised to see me still there. I brought them up to date and told them the call was my last chance. I’d looked up my uncle's work phone number and was reaching for the dial when I heard Bull say “You can stay here if you want…”

To be continued…

HOME AGAIN... to some surprises (Part 157i)

HOME AGAIN… to some surprises (Part 157i)

It only took five minutes to get to the delicatessen that Morris described as having the best Reuben sandwiches in the city. Walking into a very busy establishment Morris shouted out “Two!”. I could see a clerk behind the counter look up and smile. Morris then led me over to a counter attached to a wall and asked me to tell him exactly what it was that I wanted. I have to tell you that I was more than a little concerned. I’ll grant you that it had been close to a month since I’d originally talked with him but he seemed to have no memory of it at all. The main thing I’d stressed was that I needed premiums/gifts that would make the bank stand out. I didn’t want to stick with the same things we’d used for our first campaign. He was just about to give me some suggestions when the clerk who’d smiled at him when we walked in showed up with two sandwiches. He dove right in, stuffing his face into this humongous sandwich. I looked at mine wondering what was in it. I really didn’t know as I’d never had one. Morris wolfed his down in no time at all. I hadn’t even made it halfway through mine when he started walking out. The next thing I know I’m walking down the street with a sandwich in my mouth following this fat little man.

Back at his office I got a quick education on the premium/gift business. Banking law limited the cost of a gift to be given for opening a new account to $10. However, I’d seen banks in the city offering premiums that, to me, had to have cost more than that and I asked about it. That brought forth a big laugh followed by three suggestions… a hand held electric mixer; a folding step stool and an electric drill complete with bits. I’d just bought a drill and knew that, even at wholesale, the price was over $10. It was probably the look on my face that prompted him to explain “the system”.

The bank would sign a ‘consulting’ contract with a subsidiary company of his. Then, the premiums/gifts would be invoiced by the distributorship at $10 each with the overage for each item being billed as consulting fees. Doing that would satisfy the banking department. I started to protest and he promptly got up and reached into one of the cartons by his desk. He pulled out a box with a General Electric hand mixer. While I was looking at it he went to another carton and pulled out a box with a Black and Decker drill. Then he started ‘selling’.

I’ll not bore you with the details but by the time he finished his ‘pitch’ I was ‘sold’. He even convinced me to add a set of three Pyrex mixing bowls. In looking back on it, I honestly believe he could’ve sold a Mercedes dealer a Cadillac. I explained that I was not in a position to sign a contract as the bank Trustees had to approve my choices. He agreed to ship one of each item to the bank on Monday. However, I did negotiate for some things that hadn’t been done by the Trustees back when they bought the premium/gifts for the first new account campaign. For instance, Morris would drop ship within two days of an order, take back any product we didn’t want at the end of the campaign and provide our advertising agency print ready support materials. By the time we hammered out the details it was after 2:30pm. When I realized the time I told Morris I had to catch my train and started to leave. Before I got very far he handed me the boxes with the mixer and drill. I didn’t understand as he’d just got through telling me he was going to ship them along with the step stool and bowls on Monday. When I protested he laughed and said they were mine and hoped I would enjoy using them.

I sort of jogged back to the hotel. The conference was officially over at 3pm but walking through the lobby I recognized some people I’d seen during the presentations. I knew my chances were slim to none to make the train in time but pressed on. The room was on an upper floor and the elevator seemed slower than usual. I remember jogging down the hall. I knew exactly where I’d left my carry case as well as the folio with the materials that had been handed out the day before. I was just going to dash in, grab them and leave, thinking I’d send Bull a thank you note on Monday. I put the key in the lock (they still used keys back then) and walked in. I made it about three steps when I realized someone was standing over by the window. Thinking it was Bull I called out a “Thank you” and continued towards my bag. But I heard a somewhat muffled cry of surprise from a definitely female voice. That’s when I looked at the form by the window and saw a woman wearing a blouse and panties trying to reach something lying on the bed. The first thought was that there had to be some kind of mistake. But, there was my bag just a few steps ahead of me. Then it came to me. Bull had said his wife would be joining him for the rest of the weekend. At that point I know my face was beet red because I could feel the perspiration forming on my brow. I was at a loss as to what to say. It only took the woman a few seconds to reach what she wanted and I just stood there watching as she pulled on a pair of slacks and as she finished getting them up to her waist in walked Bull.

To be continued…

HOME AGAIN... tosome surprises (Part 157h)

HOME AGAIN… to some surprises (Part 157h)

The afternoon session wasn’t as intense as the morning one but was still beneficial. When over Bull and I went up to his room. It wasn’t like any that I’d seen before. It was easily three times the size of Elle’s and my room in Florida. There were two double beds. In fact, in thinking about it, the bath was almost as big as our bedroom had been. We were on the tenth or eleventh floor and from there the people on the street looked like ants. Being in the city and just about 5pm there were a lot of them. Bull had told me he was eating dinner with an old buddy of his but invited me to come along. He assured me that his friend wouldn’t mind.

We had to wait to get a taxi. On the way to the restaurant Bull explained that after graduation he’d been offered a job by a company that owned a minor league hockey team. He’d be given a chance to make the team and against his family’s wishes went ahead and moved to Canada to do it. The guy we were meeting had been a teammate. Bull was a little nostalgic when he said he’d stuck with it for two years but a growing family and the realization that he wasn’t going to make a ‘real’ living playing hockey made him return home. I sat in the cab and realized that we had both done basically the same thing… chased our ‘dream’ right out of college and, even more coincidental, we’d both been married as we finished up and soon had kids.

We went to a steak house that I’d heard about… The Palm. It wasn’t very big and as a real eye catcher, the floor was covered with sawdust. We were seated in a booth with wooden seats and no cushions. We had to wait for his friend. I’d been a hockey fan and had attended many major league games when my father worked in the city. I still followed it but not very closely. When his friend showed up Bull introduced him and I sort of recognized the name… he had played for the Rangers for a couple of years before being traded. I’ll admit I was a little star struck. I was pretty quiet during dinner just content to listen to the two of them reminisce and talk about the guys who had been on Bull’s team and had gone on to play hockey at the highest levels.

The guy had to leave fairly early and I was happy about that. It had been a long day for me. Back at the hotel Bull wanted to go to the bar but I knew that wasn’t a good idea for me. When we’d been in the room earlier he’d told me which bed was mine so I headed upstairs. As tired as I was I still couldn’t get to sleep. I ended up trying to come up with a way to visit with the premium/gift distributors and still make my train. Before we left the meeting hall we’d been talking with a couple of the staff members from the banking association who were putting it on. Even though I had a schedule there wasn’t much detail for the Friday session. There were a lot of cross conversations going on and I never did get any clarity but I got the idea that a lot of it was geared for the larger banks. As I finally drifted off I had it in mind to check out the first session and if it really was geared more for the ‘big boys’ I’d try to get an appointment to see at least one of the distributors.

I never heard Bull come in. He was hungover and opted out of breakfast and told me he’d catch up with me later. That first session was still relevant for smaller banks but I decided to make a couple of phone calls and if I could get in to see the either or both the distributors I’d leave. Luck was with me as the first one I called told me to just show up. When I told him where I was he said it was in walking distance which was more good news. I went back to the room to get my bag just as Bull was headed down to the conference. I told him of my plans and he suggested that I leave my bag in his room rather than drag it around, especially since I’d be walking. He handed me his key and said he’d get another. That way I wouldn’t have to waste time finding him when headed for the station.

I left the hotel around 11am and was at the address I was looking for in less than 15 minutes. I have no idea when I’d conjured up the idea that I’d be walking into a somewhat glamorous showroom that displayed all the gifts I’d be looking at. What a shock! I opened the door and all I saw was cardboard cartons stacked all over the floor and what little furniture I could see. There was an older woman with a clipboard who was rummaging through one of the boxes. She barely looked up when I walked in. She didn’t acknowledge me but bellowed out “Morris”. A minute or so later this short, fat middle aged man appeared from a door that I couldn’t see for all the boxes. He introduced himself and motioned me to follow him. As I made my way around the boxes I had a thought that once through the door things would look better. It didn’t! It was a bigger room with more boxes… but I did see a couple of desks way in the back. Morris led me back and pushed some small boxes off a chair next to one of the desks. As I was sitting he asked me what it was that I wanted. Immediately, I wondered if I was in the right place. I’d had phone conversations with both companies back about a month ago and it was apparent that he hadn’t remembered. I looked around once again and decided this was not going to work. I stood up and apologized for taking his time and started to leave. I don’t remember exactly what he said but he ended up saying that he was hungry and he’d buy me lunch while I refreshed his memory. By then he had my arm and was almost pushing me towards the door. I didn’t want to make a scene so let him lead me out the door. I figured the worst case would be that I’d get a free lunch.

To be continued….

HOME AGAIN.... to some surprises (Part 157g)

HOME AGAIN… to some surprises. (Part 157g)

It wasn’t planned but when Gertrude walked through the front door and went up to Trish, Jerry was talking with her. I don’t know what they were discussing but as soon as Jerry saw he he walked away and into the work area. The smirky smile was still on my face when Gertrude approached my desk. I’m sure she thought it was for her. In any case, I opened the account for her without a word mentioned about Jerry. As she got up to leave she did make a comment about me coming to her agency “just to look around. As soon as she was through the gate I was calling the telephone company about the switchboard. I didn’t know if there was a problem or not but with equipment almost 30 years old it was worth a service call.

With less than two months until the opening of the new branch things were starting to pile up on me. Ordering the teller machines was one that I’d overlooked until the visit to the branch earlier in the day. So, in my call to the data center about the data packs being installed I took care of that as well. I’d been in Florida for the April Board meeting when the branch committee asked about the premiums (gifts) for the new account campaign to go along with the grand opening. Hobie had put them off telling them I’d have some selections for them by May 1st. However, I didn’t even have a meeting set up with any of the distributors and I was getting a bit stressed about it. Knowing I’d be in the city for the Bank Protection Act seminar I started trying to figure out a way to squeeze that in as well… but I didn’t know how. Any trip to the city was a whole day lost and I really didn’t want to make two trips.

To complicate matters, Hobie called in sick on Wednesday which meant I had to sit in for him at the mortgage committee meeting. I spent most of the day trying to gather information about the seminar I was to attend on Thursday and Friday. By the time I got home that night I was pretty up-tight. The last thing I needed was a call from Cliffy to find out if I’d be at the shop to work on the race car that night. I know he was upset with me when I told him I couldn’t but I calmed him down a bit when I told him I thought it might be possible to come up with some sponsorship money. It was nothing concrete and only an aside I’d heard from Bret. However, it bought me some time.

To get to the city by 9:30am I had to be up at 5:30am and to the bus stop at 6:10am. It always made for a long day. The bus took me to the only train to the city that arrived in time for the meeting. The conference started at 9:30am which didn’t give me any time to check in to my room. The materials concerning the day’s offering stressed the importance of being there for the opening and that’s what I did, dragging my travel bag with me. They were right because right after the opening remarks all the participants were handed materials that turned out to be the keystone for adhering to the proposed requirements. The materials were explained and we were, point by point, guided on how to proceed with them. When they called a for a recess I headed down to the lobby to check in to the hotel only to find they didn’t have a reservation for me. I insisted that they did and while I was starting to rant I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I turned around and saw a somewhat familiar face but couldn’t put a name to it. He, obviously, saw my distress and blurted out “It’s Bull… from college!”. I think I probably shook my head when I heard it. A whole flood of thoughts came roaring to mind. It had been nine years since I graduated but he didn’t look much like the guy I remembered as “Bull”. He’d been a fraternity brother but was a year behind me. We were never really friends. Actually, when he pledged the fraternity I’d been pretty hard on him. He was a varsity hockey player and thought his s__t didn’t stink. He’d earned the nickname of “Bull” because when a puck went into a corner he’d go crashing in like a “mad bull’ to dig it out. We did share one thing in common though… we were both married for our senior years. I’d only seen him once after I graduated. It was right after the fall semester of his senior year started. I was still working with the race horses just 20 miles away and before we shipped out I took a trip back to campus to see some of my returning friends.

Of course, I had to ask what he was doing there. He was working for a small upstate bank and was sent, like me, to get the ’scoop’ on the pending law. It only took a few minutes for us to get that bit of information shared and then he asked what the problem was about my reservation. I didn’t exactly know other than they didn’t have a room for me. Then he offered to let my stay in his room. Hearing that was almost as big a shock as seeing him a few minutes earlier.

We had to get back to the conference and agreed to work something out during lunch. The content of the conference continued to be enlightening and I was actually looking forward to developing the required plan for the bank. During the lunch break “Bull” explained that he’d taken his room through Sunday as his wife was arriving by train Friday afternoon and they had tickets to a couple of plays over the weekend. He stressed it wasn’t a problem as there were two beds in his room. He closed the deal saying we could get caught up on our lives at dinner that night. It sounded good to me. I was hungry!

To be continued…

Time out... again, Update #2

Time out... again, Update #2

What a month! It seemed like the bad news would never stop. I decided to wait until April to post again hoping that it would make a difference... so here goes.

Our daughter's funeral was on Saturday, March 18th. The interment was to be in the memorial garden behind the church following the service. However, mother nature decided to throw us a curve with over a foot of snow a few days prior. With a lot of effort and dedication we managed to pull it off. There was a reception back at the house following for family and close friends. While there I got a phone call telling me that one of my closest friends back here had died during the night. Another shock! He had some physical problems but no real medical ones. On top of that, his wife, in a panic, tripped and fell breaking her femur (hard to believe but she did). Upon our arrival home that Sunday we stopped at the hospital to see her and offered to help look after her cat and plants. She was still so 'rattled' that no plans for her husband had yet been made.

Moving on... Elle and I were invited to join some other friends for dinner one night during that week. We felt it was a good idea to get away from the reminders of our daughter for a night. Back at home just before bed I had a major attack of stomach cramps. It ended with a substantial amount of blood in the toilet. I'd had this a time or two before caused by food poisoning so just sloughed it off and went to bed. The next morning I felt like I had to go again but all that was there was more blood. Now it was a trip to the emergency room.

It was determined that I was in no danger so I was released with instructions to see my regular doctor who immediately scheduled me for an endoscopy and colonoscopy... not my favorite things to do even under the best of circumstances. It took a few day to get it scheduled and me prepped for it. While waiting, another phone call with more bad news... the daughter of a former neighbor had died. What was disturbing about this news was that she was the same age as our daughter, 57 years old. Unlike our daughter, this woman had no health problems at all. She was a caregiver for her mother and, supposedly, did all the right things as far as eating and exercise. With three deaths within three weeks it was getting hard to have a positive outlook.

There was one piece of good news... there was no sign of any major digestive problems and other than to have to suffer with a soft diet for a week was told to go back to "normal" living, whatever that is.

On top of all the above, Elle was to have had a major shoulder operation (shoulder replacement) the week after our daughter died. Needless to say it was postponed. She's had three major surgeries over the past few years and found it harder and harder to recover from the anesthesia each time. Because of that she'd been putting this one off for almost a year. Cortisone shots no longer helped and she finally reached a point where Advil and Aleve no longer worked. She refused to take opioids after seeing some lady friends become addicted which left her no choice. She handled the first postponement fairly well and had the next one scheduled for last Thursday. However, she got a phone call at 4pm the day before telling her that her pre-op check up with her regular doctor showed she had a bladder infection (heard that before??) which meant it had to be postponed again. Through all of this I've had to try and boost her confidence and to work on convincing her that having the operation is not an option (She can't lift her arm even up to her waist... gets little sleep at night... and has become difficult to live with. I've had to help her dress and undress for  almost nine months). Right now, barring any further interruptions, it is on the calendar for April 11.

When not otherwise occupied by all of the above I've been trying to help my son-in-law out with all the paperwork (and $$) that goes with a death. It's been almost impossible to not be reminded that I'll never see my daughter again. Friends have told me not to "push it" and that, over time, I'll fall back into a more normal routine. So, having said that I'm not sure when (or if) I'll go back to posting at Fancy Panties. I made one abortive attempt but quickly gave up on it. I'm hoping that if I try again I'll be motivated to continue. I've really enjoyed reliving my past. I also found that writing was a passive type of enjoyment for me allowing me to destress a bit.

To OB, BS and Curly... Thank you for your continued kind words of encouragement.

The Pantymaven