The Resetting Password Road Trip

Sunset started to reveal a picture postcard image allowing Georgina to sit quietly on her plantation porch, massaging her confident friend, the bulldog.

“Just got a text, Gifford,” she shouted and a proper gentleman wearing a yellow jacket answered from the field sidelines with a question, “what does it say?”

“It is from California,” Georgina reported, “those loan people want me to reset my password.”

“But you have a wonderful password, Miss Georgina,” Gifford immediately came up the wooden stairs, “this fellow Mr. Sofi has detailed instructions, go to Los Angeles, apparently, he considerers the trademark name, Miss Georgina a number one heavy favorite to wear a national crown and a loan is possible.”

Taking off his glasses while giving the faithful bulldog a pat on the head Gifford, a retired engineer inquired, “what is the connection between passwords and loan qualification?”

“Do not know,” Georgina put down the cell phone communication device, “I guess we must pack up and head west, Mr. Gifford.”

“I will charge the Tesla,” Gifford offered.

Deciding to travel the southern route the pair enjoyed Louisiana’s picturesque scenery and before hitting the Texas border an announcement rendered from the backseat, “I am hungry for some gator!”

Feeling a little insecure Gifford carefully kept his eyes peeled to the road, “can we afford,”

Noticing Georgina display ‘the aristocratic glare’ Gifford finished the sentence, “afford the time, we need to see Mr. Sofi as soon as possible to reset the password.”

“We have time to enjoy gator, the place right up there imports the juicy meat from Florida,” Georgina snarled.

“Yes, Miss Georgina.”

Moments later the car found a recharging station right outside the shack style shanty, “Mike,” Georgina waved seeing the proprietor cleaning buckets.

“That’s Mike Tiger the owner, he is well known for capturing and cooking Florida gators,”

“Come on in, Georgina,” Mike smiled, “I have some gator sautéing right now.”

After the luncheon break, Georgina and Gifford returned to the automobile and while buckling in Mike Tiger sprinted out.

“The Florida Gators wanted me to give you this,” Mike explained handing over a gift wrap financial present,”

“They were good,” Georgina commented.

“Are you sure?” Mike continued, understanding the Gator spread ingredients Georgina made, allowed the guest to leave a winner due to enjoying the delicacy dishes.

“Oh wow,” opening the packet noticing all the cash Georgina acted surprised, “good luck in LA,” Mike sent a friendly rivalry gesture.

Days passed and finally the two arrived outside Mr. Sofi’s corporate office and with pocketbook in hand the successful entrepreneur approached the front desk, “is Mr. Sofi, here?”

“He will be right with you, Miss Georgina,” Betty Ludden, a local recent entry level college graduate placement holder stated.

“Good.”

“I hear you love Gator meat,” Betty smiled, “I love gators especially ones that are in placid lakes.”

“Yes, they are the best,” Georgina politely carried on the conversation.

Within minutes Mr. Sofi appeared, “if it is not Miss Georgina, and we need to reset your password.”

“Yes, we do,” Georgina agreed, “and why is this happening?”

“For your loan,” Mr. Sofi clarified.

“But I am filthy rich,”

“Your alone,”

It only took a few seconds, and the password reset itself, leaving Betty Luddon reaching inside the desk grabbing a check autographed by Mr. Sofi.

“What is this?”

“You're the big winner on today’s, ‘Reset The Password Game Show,” Betty gleamed a happy grin, “congratulations!”

Gifford escorted Georgina to the elevator allowing only a second to review the payment. Safely, back at the car, the number one favorite, softly touched the sleeping bulldog, “they thought I was a loan,”

“That is impossible, I have you, ‘que,’"

Heading towards the interstate Gifford reminded his employer passenger, “Miss Georgina, ‘que’ changed his stage name years ago to UGA X and his contract commands 15% of the handwritten scribble Mr. Sofi wrote.”

“I will deal with all that paperwork when we get home.”