My New Career Coach

Larry Bort is smiling at me. He always smiles. I can see all of his teeth. His eyes bulge and look a little wild. His grayish blonde hair sticks up like in a rooster tail. His scalp line recedes at the temples, leaving a mohawk-like strip down the center of his head.

I am in the process of taking bids to paint my house. I already had two estimates when I remembered that the guy down the street paints houses. It seemed like a good idea to talk to him since he presumably knows the neighborhood and would not get me into trouble with the Homeowners' Association, whose spies are everywhere. They would love to fine me $100 for improper paint color or contractors working on Sundays or some other arcane rule of which I am not aware.

As we talk at the front of the house, I see Larry's red Honda sports car parked on the street. I suddenly remember a few months back when a crazed jerk in a red sports car got impatient with me while we drove down the main street of the subdivision. I kept stopping at all the stop signs, which annoyed him to no end. In my rear-view mirror, I saw him weave, threaten to pass on the right and gesture wildly from behind the wheel. I slowed down just to irritate him more. When we finally exited the neighborhood, he flew around me and flipped me off.

We walk around the house and I point out all the trouble spots. Larry doesn't take measurements like the other painters did, but he says he can tell me exactly how much he would charge me. Except for the paint. He'd just bill me for the paint at the end. I tell him I need a good estimate on the paint costs.

"Well, I couldn't even begin to guess how much paint this house would need!" He says.

"The other two painters both said about 40 gallons per coat," I reply.

"Yes! That's exactly how much I was going to say!"

"Right," I think to myself.

"Well, the labor for this job would be $7900. I'll figure the paint and call you."

Larry's bid was about twice as high as the other two I'd gotten already.

As we walked down the driveway, I asked him how long he'd been painting houses.

"Oh, just a couple of years, while I've been between jobs."

"Really? What do you usually do?" I asked.

"I'm a licensed therapist." His grin never waned for one moment.

"How 'bout that!" I said.

"What about you? What do you do?" Larry asked.

"Insurance agent."

"Do you like it?"

"Sometimes."

"Well, if you ever want to make a career change, or just want to get more out of your current job, call me."

He whipped out a business card that read "Larry Bort, Business Coach/Career Counselor."

......

UPDATE! This guy looked really familiar, but I couldn't place him. Then tonight, I turn on an old favorite movie, Escape from New York, and there he was, the crazy-looking punk dude, Isaac Hayes' right-hand man. That's him, wild eyes, and sticky-up hair.

......