Am I Trying To Wear You Down?

I took great pride in watching my almost 24 year-old son purchase his first car. He worked hard and earned every penny he put into the purchase.

When the salesman walked away to “ask his boss” if a particular number was within reach I told the younger Mr. Wilner I was proud and a little bit jealous.

“Do you know what my first new car was? A ’96 Honda Accord, bottom of the line with no features. I had a love/hate/relationship with it.”

The salesman returned mid conversation and told us he didn’t think our offer was going to work and that his boss wanted to come speak with us.

I nodded my head and said it would be better for all parties he if we stopped playing the game. He gave a quizzical look and I asked “Are you trying to wear me down?”

He said no and I smiled and told him I am famous for it. Some people get irritated because I have endless patience for it, but I understand both sides.

“I am not hear to beat the dealer. I am here to make sure we walk away with a deal everyone feels good about.”

Truth is when we finished the paperwork I wanted to go back to the G.M. and unleash what some people describe as my “inner Orrie” upon him.

He deserved it but not my time especially since we had reached a good deal. The smile on my son’s face was enough for me.

Am I Trying To Wear You Down?

Some of you might currently be asking that question or perhaps you have asked it in the past. I might suggest you read this or close your eyes and look for that inner connection where we feel our naked truth.

Maybe you ought to do both or maybe you ought to do neither.

That’s because if you are person who likes details and wants specifics you’ll make yourself crazy trying to analyze what I have or haven’t done. There are too many variables and too many unknowns which makes it impossible to come up with a proper answer.

And hell, an almost middle aged man like me is hard to pin down, just ask my shortest sister who accuses me of being pretty goofy.

Hit the pharmacy today to pick up my drugs and the tech asked me to tap twice when I was trying to pay. Somehow I fat fingered an entry into giving a dollar to a charity along with paying for my BP meds.

So I asked him to tell me what the charity was for and he asked me why I wanted to know.

“Because I like knowing where my money is going.”

He smiled and said it is only a buck and I smiled back and said I’d like a real answer. He took a step back and I smiled again and said “better take another one.”

For a moment his eyes got wide and then I started laughing and told him I have won the last three battles with my insurance company over benefits.

“People make mistakes, some are honest and some are sloppy. My fat fingering was a sloppy mistake. I wanted to double check what I am going to pay for.”

He smiled and exhaled.

I paid the $5.48 for my 90 day supply and walked out to the car.

****

Early Thursday morning I hopped on a telephone call to confirm whether I had to meet someone out in Grand Prairie.

We talked about meeting at a restaurant and he said something about my picking up the check for more than just crumbs.

I laughed and asked if he had just called me a crumb. He said no and told me that he had never heard anyone use the term, it was just something people said on television.

I laughed too and asked him if he had ever paid for a meal and he said no. “I’d sure hate to break your streak, guess it is on me again.”

Ten minutes later he called me back to ask if we could reschedule and I said absolutely.

Turned out it was good for both of us because the day turned into one in which I was juggling chainsaws and bowling balls.

Those moments can be challenging because there is a virtual guarantee that you are going to drop one or both on your head.

I still carry the scar of a brick I pulled down on my head from my trying to scale a wall when I was three so I’d rather not add to them.

But then again these scars make us who we are and provide a living map of where we have been. There is something kind of cool about that.