Wheeler and Dealer

I was just putting the finishing touches upon my yard after mowing the lawn. I was using my weed-eater to trim around my driveway. George pulled up in his 1981 Dodge Diplomat. It took me completely by surprise.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered under my breath as I turned my weed-eater off. I was not expecting this at all. George never comes over to my house.

Lately, George has had an infatuation with my car. I made the mistake of telling him that it was gift. He thinks that since I got it for free then I would be willing to sell it for a small amount of cash. That was what today’s visit was about.

“Wazzup, my brotha!” George said as he got out of the car.

“Hey, George,” I replied suspiciously.

“Dey got yo white ass working hard, I see,” George said commenting on my freshly cut lawn and the weed-eater sitting on the ground next to me.

There was a young, black lady sitting in the passenger’s seat of George’s car. I had never seen her before.

“Who’s that?” I said to George motioning to the lady.

“Oh, don’t be mindin’ her,” George said. “Dis ain’t none of her business.”

“What do you want, man?” I asked cautiously. I don’t particularly like having George at my house for some reason.

George pulled a thick envelope out of his front pocket and handed it to me.

“Go ahead and count it, brotha,” George said.

I opened the envelope and it was filled with a wad of $20 dollar bills. It was quite a substantial amount.

“George, where did you get this kind of money?” I asked.

“It be a thousand dollars,” George said. “Ole George has connections.”

“What does this have to do with me?” I asked.

“I want to buy dat car,” He said as he pointed to my Honda.

I laughed.

“George, my car is worth ten times this much,” I replied as I handed him back the envelope.

“So, you ain’t gonna sell it to me then?” George asked.

“George,” I said with the utmost sincerity as I put my hand on his shoulder. “You come back this afternoon with $10,000 dollars and I will sign the title over to you on this spot. The car will be yours.”

“Now, goddamn, you know I can’t come up with dat kind of money!” George exclaimed.

“George, that is my final offer,” I replied amused

“I see how ya gonna be,” George said. “Damn, tight-ass, white cracka.”

“Now, George, I thought me and you were brothers,” I replied as I smiled.

George was not happy with my offer. I didn’t have any intention of selling my car anyways and I knew George couldn’t get up that kind of cash. We spoke for a few more moments and then he got in his car and left. I smiled to myself as I put up my lawn tools and walked on inside. That George sure can get some crazy ideas up his butt sometimes. Selling my car for a thousand dollars; I am not that big of a fool. You have to give him an A for audacity though.