And so, I left, feeling bad for her and knowing that, in all likelihood, she'd end up with nothing.
Here’s a story from a few years back, just for fun (and having nothing to do with your lawsuit against me).
Some time ago, I had the pleasure of working with Shirley Rudd, an elderly gal who’d gotten mixed up with an actual scam artist, it seems.
She’d sold him a property and he’d failed to make payments to her as promised, and things were a mess.
The first mortgage was foreclosing, putting her loan at risk, and without any funds to protect her interest there was a good chance she’d lose her entire investment.
I’d stopped by her place, a modest little travel-trailer set up in a really ugly park along South Tacoma Way, with the intention of offering to buy her loan. Figuring she could use some money right now, it seemed like a good opportunity for the both of us to maybe come out ahead.
But she didn’t want to sell.
I tried to explain how she’d likely be wiped out at the auction and that my money was a sure thing, but she didn’t want any part of it. As far as she was concerned, she’d said, if she lost everything that would be just fine.
It was really sad.
And so, I left, feeling bad for her and knowing, in all likelihood, she’d end up with nothing. I was also more than a little pissed at the con artist who’d put her in this position.
On my way back home I stopped at a flower shop, having decided to try to brighten her day with a bouquet. Nothing fancy, but a little something to maybe put a smile on her face.
She probably hadn’t done much in the way of smiling of late.
The gal at the flower shop got me set up with a $25 arrangement and I gave her Shirley’s info so they’d be able to deliver the flowers right to her door.
She’s writing it all down and I’m getting out my wallet to pay, when she looks up at me and asks, “Are you Dee Dee?”
Huh? I had no idea what she was talking about.
With a puzzled look, I say, “Eh, no. I’m Joe.”
She kinda grins a little and then says, “No, no, are you Dee Dee?” Only this time she’s saying it really slowly, pausing after each word like she thinks I’m stupid or something.
Now, I am stumped and beginning to get a little exasperated, not knowing what the heck she’s getting at. Confounded, I blurt out, “Look, lady, I don’t even know a Dee Dee.”
There’s a gal in line behind me who’s witnessed our entire exchange and she’s laughing hysterically, obviously trying to contain herself and not at all succeeding.
And then the gal behind the counter starts to laugh at me as well.
What the heck?
Finally, she says, “No, sir, I’m trying to find out how you spell her name . . . is it R U D D?”
Ahhh, I get it, feeling silly and confirming that yes, she’s got it correct.
I pay and quickly get the heck out of there, having had better days.