As I was driving toward the motel after dropping Cindy at the airport, I saw a long row of bicycles sitting in front of a very old building. The hand lettered sign painted on the window of the building advised me that it was a thrift store and flea market. Since I had passed the building I had to turn the car around to get a better look.

I inspected the bicycles as if I knew what I was doing. All I really knew was that I didn't want to buy used bikes that looked like used bikes. So of course I didn't buy anything. I sat in the car getting myself ready to leave the parking lot when realized that I had made a terrible mistake by buying the old country store.

No I hadn't bought anything at the thrift store/flea market, but it also hadn't cost the owner a dime to get me in. I had seen his bikes as I drove down the road. He had drive by traffic and I would have none. No wonder the owner of the building had jumped at the change to sell it to me. I was as they say in poker drawing dead. I had no chance to win in that situation.

I would have been depressed except that I really wanted to be a beach bum. The business was just cover for me.

It had been less than 24 hours since the owner had accepted the contract on the building. Even so I drove out to take another look at the building. I was shocked to see the door open and men on the roof. The owner seemed to be trying to do everything at once.

One of the trucks was an Owen's Plumbing Company truck. I found Mr Owens himself checking the toilet and sink. "Hi there, I'm Eddie Wilson the buyer of the building," He just nodded, a man of few words I decided, "So everything going to be okay with the plumbing?"

"Yeah, gonna have to replace the hot water heater and then some drain lines but nothing much to it," he replied.

"Do you have a card, I might need some work done after I move in," I suggested. "By the way, be sure to check that floor drain please." I had plans for that drain, but he didn't need to know about them.

I returned to the motel with the bag from a fast food restaurant. All prisoners in any facility will tell you that they miss cheese burgers from a fast food restaurant most. Even if I had been in a country club prison, I was no exception.