Throw me a bone

A satisfying clank sounded as Frank locked down his shop for the day. There weren’t many things that brought as much satisfaction to him as this. Ironically, locking down gave him a sense of freedom, breaking away from the invisible shackles of a nameless boss.

To add to his excitement, he had a date that night. Running a shop did not give him enough room to tinker with the dating scene. He was anxious, he had to get ready and he was already running late.

As he got his keys in his pocket he was startled by an old friend of his, Sam.

Sam was also in a rush. Being in a rush was his natural state, but he had the ability to keep his cool albeit his constant state of urgency. When people asked him about it he claimed that a good organization was the key to relaxation.

They greeted each other quickly and Sam jumped right into business. “Write this down…” – Sam said with his characteristic low voice as he opened his Little Black Book into a bookmarked page. He continued laying down his instructions. Between the anxiety, the tiredness, and a busy street traffic noise, Frank had a hard time following what Sam was saying.

Frank, fumbling, pulled out his phone to take down the notes. With disparagement, Sam repeated his instructions. Sam diligently wrote down what he could make of it. He was clumsy in his note-taking and relied heavily on his cell phone’s autocorrect function.

Sam closed down his notebook and asked, “can I count on you?” – “Yeah, sure.” – responded an absent-minded Frank.

“I need to know if I can count of you. If I don’t have them right here by next Friday I’ll be a dead man.”

“Nothing to worry about, I’ve got the info right here.” – reassured Frank pointing to his text message notification flooded mobile device. “I gotta run now, see ya in a couple of weeks.”

“Next week, Frank. I’ll see you next week.” Said Sam as they shook hands.

Every time that the Sun rose, was a new beginning for Frank, a clean slate. This notion was especially prevalent the next morning. The date had been a disaster. He was disappointed, not only for the failure, but because he knew that another opportunity like this would not come around easily.

A few days went by and the freshness of each morning and the distraction of tending to his store washed away his sorrow.

Then, his phone rang. It was Sam. He looked at his phone with surprise, when the memory of their quick Friday-night exchange dawned on him. He remembered that Sam needed something, urgently, but couldn’t remember what that was.

Frank answered the phone to a parsimonious Sam asking him about his request.

Speaking rapidly, to disguise his hesitation, Frank reassured him that everything was on track, and that everything should be ready by Saturday.

“Friday.” – Interrupted Sam. “I need them by Friday. Remember? I thought you had everything down in your cell phone!” Added Sam with concern.

“Yes, Friday… I meant Friday.” – Responded Frank while being called by one his employees at the shop.

Frank reassured him that his request was being fulfilled and he had nothing to worry about and ended the call with a cold good-bye.

With his characteristic anxiety he rushed to his notes to make memory of what the request was. “20000 dollars by next Friday” read the note. Astonished of what he had just read to tried to remember if there was any more context to it. He thought about calling Sam back. But that would be embarrassing for him. Sam was a very straight forward and direct person, he thought. If Sam had asked for $20,000 is because he truly needed them.

His employee tried to grab his attention again. Distracted by his new preoccupation he could not focus on what the employee was asking of him.

“What is it?” – asked Frank.

A courier had made an extraordinarily large delivery and the employee needed to know what to do it.

“Well, what’s in them?” – Added Frank, absent minded once more, as his mind was trying to figure out how to come up with twenty grand by the end of the week.

As the employee opened the box he pulled out some of the contents and said, “it looks like dog collars.”

“What about the other ones?” – asked Frank.

“More dog collars. Hundreds if not thousands” – elaborated the employee.

He was even more anguished now, something else to worry about that he had no idea how to solve. He didn’t know whether to return the package, contact the shipper, keep it, donate it, or simply put it out on the street.

The employee pointed out that it the shipment was under his name and the shop’s address. Then, a brilliant idea popped in his head. If the items were legitimately his then he could sell them. After all, there had been a boom in dog sales in the city after the lockdown and people were always walking their dogs around when they came in into his paint store. Another business that boomed with the pandemic as people took the extra time to renovate their places or adapt them into home offices.

So, Frank and his associate quickly added them to the inventory. Posted them on Instagram, Facebook, their online store, went to dog parks for direct sales, and even ran a promotion where they would get a free paint sample with the purchase of a dog collar. They painted a big sign on their apparel windows that read “DOG COLLARS HERE” and painted a big fluffy dog’s face with a bright red collar around its neck.

The impromptu business was an immediate book. Suddenly they were flooded with orders. The boxes were being emptied out as fresh morning bagels.

Frank was happy and excited. He was going to be able to pull off the impossible feat for his friend. He was going to be able to deliver what he had promised after all.

The excitement turned into his customary anxiety as it was already Friday noon and he was a few hundred dollars short.

Unexpectedly, a customer rushed into the store asking, “are you still selling dog collars? How many do you have? Doesn’t matter. Just give me everything you’ve got.”

“Everything?” – exclaimed the employee. “We have a couple of boxes left but that’s it.”

“Sure, that works. I’ll take them. I’m in a hurry. I have a dog show starting in an hour and we need them as souvenirs for the guests. So, just write me a receipt for a thousand dollars.” – Said the customer as she pulled the money out of her wallet.

The employee quickly wrote the receipt and promptly counting the money while calling Frank.

Frank, for the first time, felt relieved. He took the cash and added to the stash for Sam. All he needed now was to wait for him and his mission would be accomplished.

As the dog-show customer walked away with the remaining boxes Sam walks in.

A very peaceful and happy Frank greets Sam with joy.

“I have it… I have it all” – Said a gleeful Frank.

“Ok. Show them to me.” – Responded a relieved Sam.

“Well, here it is.” – pointing to the bag with the stash of money.

With certain confusion Sam asked, “Where?”

"Right here, in this bag. All twenty thousand dollars accounted for in this bag.”

“What do you mean twenty thousand dollars?” – Asked a visibly confused Sam.

“That’s what you said. I have it right here in my notes.” – Frank pulled out his phone and to show Sam what he had written down.

Taking a palm to his face and grabbing his Little Black Notebook out, Sam said “20,000 collars… COLLARS. I told you I had shipped 20,000 collars to your shop, to keep them here until today or my boss would kill me.”

An incredulous Frank took out his cell phone to check his notes. Then, he closed his eyes in an awe striking revealing flash back of the autocorrect instance of the previous Friday.

"Was it your little flashy device?” – Asked a baffled Sam trying to recompose his cool.

“Yup” – replied Frank to a now speechless Sam. “But hey, we do have 20,000 bucks” – added Frank.

Frustrated, but taking it as positively as possible dictated by his characteristic coolness, Sam looked Frank in the eye and said, “that we do… that… we do. But next time…” – pressing the Little Black Notebook to Frank’s chest, “just write things down."