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A Piece Of My Mind 3: Pieces to Mind
Written by Stepdaddy
"Like what?" I asked, sipping a cup of coffee, surprisingly well-brewed for once, in my sister Sandy's kitchen. Danny is her low-life husband.
"Like that he's a loser just because he works on and off at the tire factory. Like that he mooches off me half the time."
This, of course, was all true.
"I don't see that this business thing really changes things. After all, what does it bring in?"
"He doesn't tell me the details, but it must be hundreds. He bought me this!" She showed me a bracelet, probably costing about a hundred bucks. Well, at least he was sharing the proceeds with my sister to *some* degree. My guess was that he was clearing around a thousand a week in his "entrepreneurial venture," and of course he was paying no taxes on it.
"So, umm, any idea what this business of his is?" I asked disingenuously.
"I'm not sure, some kind of service, like a personal shopper kind of thing. Except he says it's for stuff that guys want, not clothes and stuff. Whatever it is, it's going great. He says revenues are about to pick up. Says he's got a special new class of customers who will pay top dollar for his service!"
I quailed. I decided to change the subject – sort of. "So dad bought you a new dog, huh?"
Yeah, a Great Dane, about two years old. Buster. He's down in the basement, caged until we're sure he's housetrained. Wanna see him?"
"Um, maybe later. By the way, I was wondering, does Dad still wear Old Spice?"
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I was by now quite familiar with the particulars of Danny's entrepreneurial venture. Naturally, it was feeble, puerile, and disgusting, as befits my re-tread of a brother-in-law. I had only agreed to help him out with getting it started for the sake of my sister, who works sixty hours a week bringing home cash for the household, while Danny bounces from unemployment check, to low-wage check, to no check every few months, it seems.
I can't stand my brother-in-law, and I think he treats my sister like garbage. I suppose in our town, she really couldn't have expected to do any better, since unlike me, she never went to college. Since I did, of course, I am able to enjoy a lifestyle of an entirely higher order.
I've been married now for about six months. I'm twenty-four years old and I'm already an important person in the community – the wife of an associate professor of Gender and Minority Studies at the local four-year college. Stewart – my husband – is exactly the opposite of my rude and crude bother-in-law. Whereas Danny treats my sister Sandy like dirt, my Stewart worships me. In return, I have the utmost respect and adoration for him.
For Danny, I have nothing but contempt.
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One thing I hate about Danny is that he has no honor. Sure, I had agreed to help him with his new business. I had even agreed not to take a cut, hoping, I suppose, that the sooner Danny got back on his financial feet, the sooner he might (finally) start to treat Sandy better.
And the business was Danny's brainchild, I have to admit. And he handled all the marketing. I only played a small part – doing "piecework" assignments as they came up. Sometimes he would tell me where to meet our customer, and sometimes he would let them hunt me down, as long as they showed me the "receipt." Since Danny's business wasn't exactly on the IRS tax rolls, he had adopted a simple receipt method. If anyone showed me a chess piece, then I would know the customer had paid and was ready for their order to be filled. This was all well and good – anything to help my sister. But Danny had promised that I would work only with strangers – that no one I actually *knew* would ever know I was helping the loser in his low-life business. But about three weeks ago, he broke his word. You see? No honor.
......(cont)
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A MrDouble Production: mrdouble Changes last made on: Saturday, July 02, 2005 |
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