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From the full version of Sunnyside's Lousy Book

A Free Man

Then my lucky day came around. It was when my probation was over and I was a free from having to take a piss test every month. Also my parents had sold their house on the lake. But instead of giving us kids the money from the house like they had always said they would, we each got five hundred dollars instead. (I think someone waved a motor home in front of my parents at half price so my parents wouldn’t be giving me enough money to help me get my truck on the market.)

After working for 250 hours and paying the court cost, I felt I earned the right to smoke pot. So I went out and bought an ounce of weed with the money from my parents house.
      My motivation picked up and I even got more things done. I even made an appointment to see my buddy the Stockbroker during the early week of December of 1997. I went to see him about setting up a corporation to get the funding to get my truck on the market. He seemed to be quite impressed with my truck and said that he had no idea I would ever come to see him about such a thing. He told me to put a business plan together and he’d look into finding some investors for me. Even then while patent pending, I told him I didn’t really want to make my truck public until I had it in production and I had some kind of supply.
      He called in a couple young men who were his assistance. They seemed to be stoked about the possibility of being involved in such a project. The Stockbroker talked about getting several investors in on it so that “they” wouldn’t be able to take it away from me. That and a few of his other comments seemed a little fishy to me. It was as if he thought I didn’t have a clue to how corporations were setup and I was oblivious to how things could turn out. To help me out one assistant suggested that he setup a meeting with a financial specialist he knew who worked as an instructor at the Bates Vocational Institute.
      As far as the letter I had wrote him; it didn’t go any further than the brief case. I didn’t clue him in on the fire and the conspiracy that followed. I didn’t want to taint the water, because I wanted to listen to what was said to find out if he was preconditioned in anyway. Needless to say, I had mixed feelings about the whole ordeal, but I wanted to be optimistic because we all look forward to that lucky break. Though I knew it was like flipping a coin, I couldn’t help but be optimistic. Later that day when I got home, I found a called left on my answering machine. It was from the Stockbroker. He’d left a message saying how impressed he was with what I did. That I did a good job on it and that he had thought about it all day. Needless to say, I felt like I was on my way to the American Dream.
      Somehow I got a hold of some literature pertaining to the way a business plan should be made. I worked hard at it and put most of my spare time into it. I wanted to have it hammered out as well as I could before the scheduled meeting with the financial specialist/instructor from Bates.
      On the day of the scheduled meeting, the Stockbrokers assistant was there to support me and to introduce me to the instructor who was a lady who brought along some other guy who was some kind of specialist of one kind or another. We met in a conference room in some building downtown where financial and business transactions take place. There again I made sure the folks knew that I didn’t want to make it public until I had a supply. The gal seemed very impressed with the fact that I’d undertaken the chore of putting a business plan together on my own. She said I was doing a good job, but didn’t inform me to anything it might be lacking – as I would have expected. Too much of the focus was based on what her friend thought of my truck. She talked him up and said that I could expect to get a call from him pertaining to more assistance.

Being green behind the ears, I thought nothing but good things would come from our little meeting, but on the walk out of the room and down the elevator with the Stockbroker’s assistant, my intuition was giving my a vibe of nonsense. The meeting left me walking out empty handed. I didn’t leave with anything I had before I arrived. I was walking out with no more knowledge and no one had said they were going to do any pacific thing for me. It was like people making promises for nothing of any substance.
      When we reached the front of the building, the Stockbroker’s assistant said that he was in a hurry because he had things to do, so we said our good-byes and see yah later kind of things. When he turned around and walked back into the building, I knew something was up. To this day, I still wonder what was said in that conference room once I was gone. Whatever it was, my intuition told me it was fishy.
      I began working on a spread sheet for the parts and most importantly the steel. Mostly to figure out how much I could make it weigh by thinning the materials used to build one. It was mostly out of curiosity, because back in my mind I knew the business plan wasn’t going to go anywhere. I had a strong feeling I wasn’t going to hear from any of them again.
      I realized that if they did try to call me, the odds of the call making it through, was at the control of someone else. Then I realized that the first phone call I made to the Stockbroker had to have been monitored by culprits. Sure I got an appointment, but I’m sure someone else was able to get an appointment before me. The Stockbroker was well aware of me and my truck before I ever stepped through his office door. It was all a put on. They were just wasting my time just to see how serious I was about it. My guess is that the conspirators told him that the patent was stolen and the Stockbroker was looking at me as if I was some kind of fool.

The next chapter of Sunnyside's Lousy Book is:


Not so safe


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A Free Man is:

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