MAYHEM IN MAY... life goes on (Part 159m)

MAYHEM IN MAY… life goes on (Part 159m)

It was about a 15 minute trip from my house to the first bank I'd worked at and where the safe deposit box was located that held the corporate bond I needed. I made a decision to get to work late and to retrieve the bond. There was a quick thought about closing the box but after seeing what was in it decided to wait until another day. Of course it took more time than I’d planned because some of the people I’d previously worked with wanted to know how things were going for me. The one thing I did take notice of was the teller line was now much younger (and attractive) than it had been when I was there. As far as looks were concerned I would have loved to have traded my tellers for theirs.

To save time on the trip from there to work I took what was then called ‘the back road’. It was definitely quicker after the school buses had finished their rounds. It also took me past Lorie’s house. Even though I’d made promises to myself to use that route more often, I hadn’t. Approaching the stop light on the corner where the house was I had my full attention on the clothes line that paralleled the road. Knowing there were only two females living there I had no trouble discerning which panties belonged to Lorie. What took me by surprise was there was a mix of bikinis along with a few full brief panties. On the few occasions I’d passed by the house I’d never seen bikinis on the line. I’d entertained the idea During the Winter, or at least while it still dark around 6pm or so, I'd entertained the idea of stopping by the fence and, if there were panties on the line, trying to get a close look and maybe a feel of them. I don’t remember the count on the panties but it was certainly interesting to find out Lorie was sometimes wearing bikinis. Unfortunately, Lorie’s choices for clothes didn’t offer much opportunity for VPL’s.

With the bond in hand I wanted to get to the stock broker during lunch to turn it in. It was for $5,000 and I needed to find something else to invest the money in. I’d established an account with them way back when I still lived in the mobile home park. I'd stop in on occasion just to keep contact with the manager. The office was a converted store, or actually two of them with two separate doors. If I were to walk in the door on the right I’d be talking with Bill, the manager. A nice guy but not very dynamic. The door on the left would take me to Stan, the assistant manager. He was an older man, probably 50 or so, who had gotten fed up with the ‘rat race’ in the city and went into semi retirement. Bored, he signed on to work under Bill. He and I hit it off right from the beginning. I had confidence in him that whatever advice he gave me was for my benefit and not for his.

His secretary, Lynda, was a stunning blond with hair just below her shoulders. She was tall, about 5’9” with a perpetual smile and a good sense of humor. Her counterpart, Bill’s secretary, was Ruthe (and that’s the way she spelled it) pronounced “Ruthie”. If ever there was an opposite to Lynda it was Ruthe. Short dark hair with a somewhat dour personality, she never had much to say sticking mostly to the business at hand. Having said that, in my observations of the two of them working together, it appeared they got along well.

When I walked in on that day Stan was on the phone which gave me a chance to talk with Lynda. I’d previously learned that she was from the Boston area, her New England accent was quite pronounced. A college graduate, she met her husband while in school. He was the son of a local car dealer and after they married they settled in the area so he could help run the business. Lynda didn’t want to work in the same business as her father-in-law so stayed at home. Bored, she went looking for something to do and, at a party, met Bill who offered her a job. As I remember it, by then she’d been there for almost a year. Over time I’d become comfortable with her and the knowledge she’d gleaned from working with Stan. I ended up leaving the bond with her and asked her to have Stan call me later.

My salesman friend, Paul, was at my desk waiting for me when I returned.  He was an interesting character… always looking for the ‘next big thing’, even if it was in a field he had no knowledge or experience in. I was interested in ordering a bunch of small give-aways and was looking forward to seeing what he’d come up for me. However, he wanted to talk to me about his new idea. In certain parts of the country state banking departments had loosened up some of the rules governing a product called a Certificate of Deposit. What Paul had learned was that the rate of interest paid on them varied greatly depending on not only geographical location but for the length of time they were issued. It was sort of like the corporate bond I’d just turned in but it was issued by financial institutions and not major corporations. He had also discovered there were ‘big money’ investors who were always looking for the highest rate available… and he wanted to start a newsletter to get this information disseminated.

I’ll be truthful here… I didn’t have any idea what a Certificate of Deposit was because I’d never even heard of them…  so gave Paul a blank stare. He was nice about it but stated that he was going to be pursuing his new idea and the sale of the cheap give-aways to me would be the last for him. I made my choices and then wished him luck as he was leaving. His response was that he’d be back to see me when the bank started issuing Certificates. I just smiled.

To be continued...