“Hey, they’re havin an art auction at the Marriot! I got me an entry so I can sell some first editions I’ve collected, but I need some help getting all my pieces down there. You mind helping me?”
thrilled. Jeff wasn’t exactly a friend. I did play volleyball with him
but he’d never shown any interest in me as a human rather than as a
brick wall at the net. Still, I figured maybe this would turn that
corner. Maybe we could have coffee afterward and get to know each other a
“Yea, why not; Gimme your address, I’ll be right over.”
wondered about his taste in art, what it was we’d be transporting. He
didn’t seem the art type, but then my lefty friends are always telling
me that first impression judgment is out of fashion. Maybe he was a Van
Gogh sort, or a freakin cubist. Probably more a nature print lover;
more Monet or another realist. Whatever it was would tell me a lot about
him, and maybe even where he’d likely choose to go to lunch.
20 minutes I had backed up to his garage where he was waiting patiently
for me… standing next to the biggest collection of velvet Elvis’ I’d
ever seen. It looked like lunch was gonna be at Burger King.