Back on the wagon with script number 10. Good stuff coming up, gotta say. This is just a transition, summarizing where we are.
Enjoy!
I almost didn't go back to the office, but then I figured that if I didn't, then it would be another day before I could choose from the roommate applicants.
I set the pile of callbacks on the end of my bed and started from the top.
Hmm. Henry Jacobs. That name sounded familiar. Oh yeah, that phone message
from earlier.
His credentials seemed pretty good. Unlike many of the other guys who applied,
this one actually held a steady 9 to 5 corporate job, did not smoke, and did
not list a member of the parole board as a reference.
I made a note of his name and number and looked through the rest of the pile.
Maybe my mind was still in a daze from today’s events, or perhaps I was dizzy
from the lingering smoke smell, but I just couldn’t concentrate on this right
now.
Tonya had thoughtfully put little red stars on a few of the pages, presumably
her picks of the bunch. I figured that if she could help me pull off the
contract with Tony Chung, she’s just gotta be good luck.
I pulled out a few of the starred applications at random, and set them in the
pile with Henry’s.
When I finally laid back in bed, I fell almost instantly to sleep and dreamed
about giant boxes of Lemonsol being used as children to run pinebox derbies.
In the morning my alarm went off - normally. I showered and such, then stopped
at Picasso’s cafe for a pre-arranged breakfast meeting with Bob.
Bob was curious to hear if I had gotten many responses to my classified ad, and
wasn’t surprised to hear that I had gotten hundreds.
“I told you it would work out,” he said. “Now out of those hundreds you got,
how many look any good?”
About 5.
Bob laughed. “Well, don’t give up too easily. Be sure you’ve picked the right
guy to live with.”
“Agh. This whole thing may be moot anyway,” I told him. He raised his eyebrow
curiously as he reached over to steal my muffin.
“Yeah, I think I may have landed at $23 million dollar account. It should end
all of Roberts and Watson’s current money problems.”
“No way! Who is it?”
“Lemonsol. Every heard of them?”
“Hmm. Yeah. I think I’ve seem some boxes of the stuff at the cleaner’s. Not
sure what it’s for, though.”
Bob wasn’t being a lot of help here.
Well, I had some personal issues to attend to with this roommate business, and
I was determined to get something done on this Lemonsol thing so that if Tonya’s
spell on Chung fell through, there would at least be a product to fall back on.
On the way out, I ordered another coffee, and wondered what Tonya would wear to
work today as I climbed into a yellow cab.
