Friday, July 30, 2010

I wasn't so sure about the whole beach bum thing by the time the closing arrived. I figured it was still real estate, even it if was a crappy location. Cindy seemed thrilled to have me settled into something. I explained to her about the trailer and my intention to stay behind the shop until I could got the business going.

I didn't want some smart ass accountant finding too much money in my hands. IE the government reward for the Sanchez brothers, or my own ill gotten gains, could send up flags.

"I'm glad one of you finally gets it." she said.

"One of you," I laughed. "Maybe i should get you into a sensitivity training class,"

"I meant one of you witnesses. Most think it's going to be business as usual."

"I think in my case, the certainty of a Columbian necktie, if they find me, is enough to keep me focused. I know I need to stay hidden. It's my ass so it's in my own best interest to keep out of sight both in my real life and with my paper trail."

"Good for you. Do you really think you can sell bicycles out in the country like this."

"No, I think I can make them here, then sell them in town or on the beach. Maybe even on Craig's list. I'm going to have a bike rack put on the rear of the car. A good one, not one of those strap on things, but one welded on by a pro."

"To deliver bikes? Isn't it going to be hard to sell a bike sight unseen?"

"Actually more to take me to a place where I can ride with maximum visibility, I plan to be my own best advertising." Probably up and down Wrightsville Beach, then down to Carolina Beach. I'm going to spend some time in Holden Beach and Fort Fisher as well. I might even go up to Emerald Isle. You know places like that never see these bikes. I think showing the bikes and giving out cheap brochures is the way to go."

"So sign this last page and initial it on the front, then the building is all yours," the lawyer said.

"Mine and the bank." What no one knew was that after a year my little off shore holding company would buy the mortgage and the payments would end. Until then Uncle Sam was making them anyway, so I played along. The first year's expenses were part of my resettlement settlement.

Cindy and I went to a well known but grimy seafood restaurant, located on the inland waterway, for lunch. It survived on the local trade mostly, since tourist wanted a dining experience not good food,

"How the hell did you find this place?" Cindy asked.

"It was recommended by a cop," I admitted.

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