tengu

So my realtor is a long-time friend of the family. He was close friends with my aunt before I was born, and he's known my parents for the past 20-some-odd years.

I was a little apprehensive when I first reached out to him with regards to forming a strictly financial relationship. I have not seen the guy in well-over a decade and was curious how he would react to my contacting him.

When I first talked with Ragen on the telephone, he suggested we meet in-person, to discuss some of the finer points of home ownership. "How 'bout we get together for a soda this weekend?" He inquired.

A what's this now?

Normally you hear, "let's get together for drinks after work," or at the very least, "we should totally talk over coffee sometime!" But a fucking soda? C'mon.... you serious, man? Apparently I'm still fuckin' twelve.

So, I humor the old gent: we meet at his offices for an early a.m. pow-wow a few weekends ago.

I think Ragen's opinion of me changed sometime between my elaborate story of the first time I killed a copperhead with my bare hands, and the first of many dead prostitute jokes.


Now, when Ragen takes me house hunting on weekends, we grab a coupla' beers afterwards.