Now Alt remembered The Wife and made this bow in her direction. "I have to clear it with the old ball and chain," he said, feeling stupid, belittled, diminished at saying so. But the man who held the keys to Alt's desire casually said "you should have brought her; we could have settled it now."
But Alt couldn't explain (though the collector knew) that bringing her was impossible, like bringing her to the boudoir of a more favored lover. Impossible.
But the acid in the response, the condescension, aroused Alt... and so they went toe to toe, the discarding lover, the acquiring lover, to arrange the terms of transfer, soon acceptable to both. It had been done by gentlemen, now friends.
There was now only one obstacle left, the biggest, the wife. He mulled over his options... arranging with the seller to make delivery in three days. Alt needed some time...
And on the third day, Alt arranged with the cooperative seller to meet him a block away from his house, there to take possession; the seller to exit in a car driven by his son.
Now, not as suitor testing a vehicle, but as owner of what he always wanted, Alt got behind the wheel and drove to his home.... there to surprise the old ball and chain.
He didn't need to be told her Irish was up. He knew. She was about to say Something Disagreeable... but Alt knew his business.
He ushered her into the front seat (no prop du jour) and told her,as if in a Confessional, about his dream, that he could put the girl of his dreams in the car of his dreams. It was schmaltz... overdone... but there was something in his eyes that made the girl melt.
And there was something in his hand, serious bling in a magnificent box, to seal the deal.
"C'mon and turn it on, wind it up, blow it out, GTO."
Richard Penny
Online Success Coach
1-(800)985-0604
Skype ID = richieace
http://earnonlinesuccess.com
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