Saturday morning, on his way to what is the equivalent of a 1920's speakeasy for stereo parts, my little brother swung by. My brother is an eccentric sort and he has eccentric friends--including a dude who makes his pals sign a non-disclose when it comes to where to purchase stereo merchandise. I was guessing the place is in some sort of abandoned missile silo in the middle of Box Canyon, just East of the Valley. But I am not sure, as my brother was sworn to secrecy. But, I digress.
Anyway, Little Bro asked how my appointment with John went. Honestly, I wasn't sure how to answer. What I considered strange might not be what everyone else considers strange. And what y'all might find peculiar might be mainstream for me. To be fair, I was raised by political conspiracy theorists and there might be an ongoing drinking game my sibs and I play when a certain parent of mine says, "Trilateral Commission."
Back to my appointment with John.
John's mother passed away some time ago. John has been in the process (for the past three years) of cleaning out the property and getting it ready to put on the market. He is hoping to do so in the next week. Call me skeptical, but if it has taken three years to get this far, I am pretty sure shoveling out the place isn't going to happen in the next seven days.
John also has a bit of analysis paralysis. He wants to bling-out the place. I tried to gently explain: just remove Mama's worldly belongings and clean the place (PLEASE!) and let's get a sign in the yard. That's all! Given none of those were a priority, I am not sure I got through on this point. I guess I will find out.
But that's not all. John regaled me with stories about his own conspiracy theories, providing me with Web sites, ideas and--if I had an alcoholic beverage available--a fabulous drinking game. John is quite passionate about his opinion of the current state of world affairs and I am only sorry a certain parent of mine wasn't there to argue with him. That alone, would have been worth that lost hour of my life.
For the majority of the time I spent with him, John didn't let me get a word in edgewise. I needed him to sign my agency form, so I waited politely while he talked about all of the above. And then, out of the blue and in mid-sentence, he just stopped talking. He suddenly reached for a pen, signed the form, unceremoniously escorted me out of the house and wished me well.
I don't know if I will get this listing. I'd really like to help out John. He is a pretty nice guy. He is also a great friend to my brother. And frankly, I kind of get what John has been going through when it comes to dealing with his mother's passing. I understand the grief of losing parent (or in my case, a Bonus Mom). His conspiracy theories are interesting and don't really bother me. (Yet.) Perhaps if he is ready to list next week, he will call back. Or, perhaps when he escorted me from his home and slammed the door, that was it. I could see this going either way.
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