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Monday, October 31, 2011

The Lady Business

The following is a scene from the coming-of-age novel I'm writing about 12-year-old Anne Charlotte Knight, better known to all as Charlie. Having just graduated from sixth grade, Charlie is anticipating an exciting summer before entering junior high in the fall with her best friend, Gail. The two girls have known each other since kindergarten and are so close they can almost complete each other's thoughts. Both girls are entering adolescence and experiencing the confusing and confounding physical and emotional changes that puberty brings. At the same time, both will experience some drastic events in their families that add to their confusion, creating turmoil that both must come to terms with. In the process, each often reacts to certain events in their lives with uncharacteristic and often negative responses.

At the dime store, Gail and I trolled the aisles. Everything was displayed in open bins and baskets so we could pick up an item and inspect it. In the jewelry aisle, we tried on pearl or rhinestone necklaces, clunky jeweled bracelets, gaudy brooches, and clip-on earrings, pretending to be our mothers as we preened in the mirror.
I picked up a pale pink strand of pop beads, connected it to another string of blue beads, and wound it around my waist like a belt. Not to be outdone, Gail connected several colorful strings together to make a jump rope and started jumping. I wanted to take a turn, but just then the manager popped up across the aisle and frowned at us. We quickly disconnected the strings and put them back in the bins, ducking our heads and trying not to giggle.

We scooted around the corner out of his sight and ran into the tropical fish section. Aquariums of various sizes filled with water, sand, and colorful fish lined the back wall as the fish moved through the water in a sinuous ballet.

Mesmerized by the dazzling colors, Gail and I pressed our noses to the tanks, side-stepping down the wall from aquarium to aquarium.

“I know what I’m getting. I’m getting some goldfish,” I announced. I picked out three goldfish and the clerk put them in a plastic bag filled with water and Gail and I started home.

We had a long walk home and I was worried the fish might die before I got them home and into a bowl of water. The sun was so hot I could feel the heat radiating up from the pavement through the bottom of my sneakers.

“Come on, let’s run,” I said. “It’s getting hot and the fish might die if the sun heats up the water in the bag.” I started to jog down the street, but Gail grabbed my arm.

“Wait a minute,” she said. “I have something to show you.” She stuck her hand down in her pocket, pulled out a gold bracelet, and dangled it in front of me.

I took the bracelet and looked at it. It was a gold link bracelet with red stones embedded in every other link. It was just like the ones we had tried on at the jewelry counter.

“How did you get this?” I asked. “You didn’t buy anything at the store.”

“Just magic,” she said and started running.

I got a funny fluttery feeling in my stomach, like right before the state achievement exams, when the teacher says,“Raise your pencils; you have 15 minutes on this section of the test” and you watch the teacher watching the clock, waiting for her to say “Begin” and wondering if you are suddenly going to forget how to read English or how to do long division.

I ran and caught up with Gail. “Stop right now,” I yelled at her and grabbed her elbow. Gail stopped running, but jogged in place, facing ahead. She was not looking at me, so I pulled her around and got nose to nose with her.

“When did you buy this?” I demanded.

“Hey, you keep it. I’ll give it to you. It’s for you, a gift from me.”

She tried to turn away from me again and I shook her arm. “Gail,” I said, “tell me how you got this.”

She mashed her lips together and cut her eyes at me. “I didn’t buy it,” she said.“I took it.”

And then she started laughing. “It’s just a dumb, cheap bracelet. Nobody cares, nobody will even know it’s gone. It doesn’t matter.”

“What are you saying?” I asked. “What do you mean you took it—you mean you shoplifted it?”

“Hey,”she said. “I did it for you. I’m giving it to you. It’s your bracelet now.”
"It's not my bracelet and I don't want it. You have to take it back right now. Come on. I'll go with you. You can tell them you forgot you had it. Just say it was a mistake."     

“Oh, no, I won’t,” she laughed. “It belongs to you now, not to me, so you take it back if you don’t want it.” She took off running and she didn’t look back.

I stood there holding my bag of fish and that cheesy bracelet, its red stones winking in the sun like tiny stoplights.

“Gail,” I screeched. “Come back here right now." But she was around the corner and out of sight.

I was so mad I almost started to cry. I squinched my eyes shut to stop the tears. I didn’t know what to do. I had to get my goldfish home out of that hot sun and into some fresh water or they were going to die. I didn’t think I had time to go back and return the bracelet. Besides, now the store might think I had stolen it. Maybe they wouldn’t believe me if I said Gail just forgot she had it. They'd wonder who Gail was and why she wasn't the one returning it.

I put the bracelet in my pocket and took off running for home. I had to take care of my fish first. I’d take care of the bracelet later. At least that was my intention. I had no idea at that moment just how much trouble that stupid bracelet was going to cause me.

Another Shameless Plug

I didn't post last Monday, so I'm sneaking in this link to the Traveling Litely blog today:

http://travelinglitely.wordpress.com/2011/10/30/washington/

or:

http://travelinglitely.wordpress.com/2011/10/28/deschutes-river/

Pretty pictures, fast read -- what's not to like :)

Monday, October 17, 2011

The Cassie Chronicles

For newcomers to Tasty Sauce, The Cassie Chronicles are fictional stories narrated by new home sales representative, Cassie Petersen. Here's the latest glimpse into Cassie's world.
The Way It Started

The Bella Vista models first opened on a hot Saturday morning in August of 2005. Opening a model complex is like a Broadway show. Once the date is set, there’s no stopping it. The scenery must be in place, the actors in costume and ready to emote. The show must go on as advertised.

The night before we opened, landscapers, designers and construction crews buzzed furiously under floodlights, planting flowers along the walkways, accessorizing rooms, painting, and hammering. In the sales office, Sarah, Judy and I prepared lot files, arranged displays and stuffed brochures with price sheets that hadn’t arrived until 8:30 that night. We were on temporary power, and at nine the generator blew, plunging us into darkness. The ones who were able to work by flashlights and candles kept on working. By ten the electrician fixed the generator and we were all in business again. We worked until midnight, when the project manager said, “That’s it, folks. Bring on the buyers.” We cheered with what little energy we had left, and as the floodlights clicked off, we made our way to our cars and headed home to get a few hours of sleep before we had to be back the next morning.
 
 
None of the frenzy leading up to the model grand opening was new to me. It’s always a whirlwind of last minute activity no matter how well you’ve planned. But even though the previous few years had seen a growing demand for new homes, I was unprepared for the frenzy of buyers who descended upon us Saturday morning.

Our PR releases touted ocean views and breezes, but on that opening weekend all you could see or feel was the crush of people wanting to get in on the ground floor and make a bundle of money in real estate. Over a thousand people coursed through the models that weekend. When we closed on Sunday night, Sarah, Judy and I fell into a heap on the sales office floor, exhausted, but thrilled. It looked like we had a success on our hands. Looks can be deceiving.
 
 
By the time Bella Vista opened, everyone – and I mean everyone - was jumping on the bandwagon, desperate to play the real estate game. The ultimate goal was to buy in Phase 1. As each subsequent phase was released, the prices would go up. Phase 1 buyers would be sitting pretty, making tens of thousands of dollars in appreciation before their houses were even built.

The key was getting on the priority list, and not only getting on the list but being on top, having first choice. When you had first choice, you could buy the best lot at the best price. Competition was fierce.

In the old days priority was on a first come first served basis, and people camped out before a phase release. As the market heated up and people’s emotions hit a fever pitch, campouts became unwieldy, confrontational and dangerous. More than once I found myself in between two angry buyers trying to break up a fight over who was ahead in line. I’m a sales professional, not a referee, so I was relieved when we finally went digital to let the computer sort it all out.

Here’s how it worked. The Monday following a grand opening weekend the website would go live and people could submit an online pre-qualification form. The ones who were quick on the computer ended up at the top of the list. People hired computer nerds to get them onto the website first. People devised systems to fill in the forms at warp speed. People cheated, lied, cried and connived to get higher on the list.

So, at noon on Monday we braced for the onslaught of calls and sob stories as the site went live. Immediately the phone began to ring as people jockeyed for position on the list. People called to confirm that their forms had been received. Panicked seniors couldn’t access the site and begged us to accept a paper application instead. People called to find out what number they were on the list, then yelled at us and threatened lawsuits when we couldn’t tell them yet.

At 2:05 the site crashed - overloaded, with over 300 names already on the list for an initial release of ten homes. That’s when I should have known the worm was starting to turn. Like our website, the whole system was overloaded and something had to give. But no one recognized it. We were all – buyers, builders, lenders - caught up in the excitement of a boom market that was putting money in everyone’s pockets. We just didn’t notice there were big holes in the pockets.

Monday, October 3, 2011

Gigantic, Massive Cheat

I'm posting this link because I'm in a Starbucks, have been since early morning, and it's past my lunchtime, and I'm too lazy to start a brand-new post! Instead, you can link to what I've been working on all morning:

http://www.travelinglitely.wordpress.com

It's mostly photos, but There Will Be Writing... :)