Working for Sam Gault was becoming a real downer. He was demanding, critical and cheaper than hell. I was a good mechanic and he knew it, but that didn’t stop him from giving me a hard time every chance he had. It wasn’t personal. He shit all over everyone that worked for him.I had started working for Sam right out of high school. I had taken auto mechanic classes in vo-tech school. I was good at working on cars and I enjoyed it. Sam took me on with the understanding that my pay would increase as my experience and abilities grew.That was our agreement, not the reality. I had worked for him for four years and had managed just two small raises. It was easier to get blood out of a rock than to pry money from Sam Gault.We all knew he could afford to pay us better. He had a huge house he had purchased for a song at a tax sale. His business sold more cars than anyone else in the area. I had heard through the grape vine that Sam had a big boat he liked to take up to the Finger Lakes from time to time. It just seemed that if a man could afford all that, he could pay his workers a living wage.
Then there was Rachel Gault. When I started at my job, Rachel Brown was a secretary in the parts department. She was five or six years older than I and built like a brick shit house. Every brick was in place!She was single but would never date any of the guys at work. She made it clear that she was holding out for a man of substance, as she called it. She wanted a rich husband. Gradually, she caught Sam Gault’s attention. It wasn’t long before Sam’s first wife was sent packing and Rachel was firmly entrenched in the big house on the hill.Rumor had it that Sam had forced his first wife to sign a prenuptial agreement before they were married, as most prenups are. She pretty much went down the road with the clothes on her back and a kick in the ass from Sam.That left Rachel in an interesting situation. She had proven that Sam was an unfaithful, ruthless, heartless prick. On the way up, it worked to her advantage. Once she was Sam’s main squeeze, she constantly had to watch her back for fear that she would be making that long trip down the driveway with a small suitcase and little else.
Maybe that precarious existence made her hard. Maybe she was just naturally a miserable bitch. I don’t know. I just know that she took a more active interest in the business and she made Sam appear generous. Work became a living hell.We were all surprised when Rachel entered the shop after the long Memorial Day weekend with a wedding ring on her finger. She had somehow coerced Sam into marrying her. Of course, marrying Sam was no guarantee she would stay married to him, or even gain access to his considerable wealth. The rumor around the shop was that Rachel had agreed to a prenuptial agreement much the same as Sam’s first wife. It gradually appeared that Rachel had a plan to avoid her predecessor’s fate. She made it a point to handle any cash that went through the building. She took control of the vending machines. She diverted the cash clients used for transactions like title transfers and registrations to her pocket. Then she used company checks to make the payment.
It didn’t seem like that much money but it added up over the course of a year. Most of us knew what she was doing, but it didn’t matter to us. The bitch was stealing money from her prick husband. They deserved each other as far as we were concerned.Then my uncle died and left me eight acres of vacant land. It wasn’t much when he bought it, but urban sprawl had encompassed the property. There were strip malls and home improvement centers on all sides. As soon as it was discovered that I was the new owner, the sharks started circling. I never realized how much pressure big businesses could put on a guy. I had representatives from The Olive Garden and Taco Bell stop in to make offers on the property while I was working.The numbers increased with each offer. It was pretty apparent that I would be quite well off if I decided to sell the land. That was when Sam Gault decided to jump into the fray. Why should a moron have something so valuable when a successful man like Sam could pad his coffers with it? That was how it all started.
I wasn’t another Warren Buffet, but I knew that I was sitting on a gold mine. I also knew that any deal that involved Sam would involve me getting fucked. Maybe it was that realization that started my mind formulating a little plot to get back at Sam for some of the shit he had heaped on me over the years. If I managed knock Rachel down a peg or two in the process, so much the better.”Sam, I received an email from some finance minister’s son in Nigeria,” I began one afternoon while I was working on a transmission with Sam standing over me. “If I can get ten thousand dollars in a bank account as a sign of good faith, these guys will deposit twenty-four million in my account within a week. They’re being hounded by rebels that want the minister’s fortune. If I let the minister’s son use my account, they’ll let me keep ten million for my efforts!”
“That sounds like an interesting proposition,” admitted Sam. “Do you have the ten thousand dollars in an account?””Shit, Sam! You know what I make here. There’s no way in hell I could have that much money saved up,” I admitted. “I was just lucky that this finance minister’s son somehow found out that I was a dependable, trustworthy guy. I don’t even know who told them about me, but they said I was exactly what they were looking for.”I think you are, Dave,” agreed Sam. “They were lucky to find you. I can see that.””Thanks, Sam! Coming from a successful man like you, that makes me feel pretty good! That brings me to my problem,” I explained. “If I could just borrow the money for a couple weeks, I could pay it back with interest once I receive the ten million dollars.””I see, Dave. I’d love to help you out, but I have to protect myself. You can understand that, can’t you?” asked Sam. “Just to be on the safe side, if you put that property of yours on Commercial Avenue up as collateral, I’d be happy to loan you the cash.” “Gee, Sam. That 8-acre parcel is supposed to be worth a lot more than that,” I stalled.
“I’m not saying it isn’t, Dave. It’s just insurance for me that you’ll pay me back. Once
Then there was Rachel Gault. When I started at my job, Rachel Brown was a secretary in the parts department. She was five or six years older than I and built like a brick shit house. Every brick was in place!She was single but would never date any of the guys at work. She made it clear that she was holding out for a man of substance, as she called it. She wanted a rich husband. Gradually, she caught Sam Gault’s attention. It wasn’t long before Sam’s first wife was sent packing and Rachel was firmly entrenched in the big house on the hill.Rumor had it that Sam had forced his first wife to sign a prenuptial agreement before they were married, as most prenups are. She pretty much went down the road with the clothes on her back and a kick in the ass from Sam.That left Rachel in an interesting situation. She had proven that Sam was an unfaithful, ruthless, heartless prick. On the way up, it worked to her advantage. Once she was Sam’s main squeeze, she constantly had to watch her back for fear that she would be making that long trip down the driveway with a small suitcase and little else.
Maybe that precarious existence made her hard. Maybe she was just naturally a miserable bitch. I don’t know. I just know that she took a more active interest in the business and she made Sam appear generous. Work became a living hell.We were all surprised when Rachel entered the shop after the long Memorial Day weekend with a wedding ring on her finger. She had somehow coerced Sam into marrying her. Of course, marrying Sam was no guarantee she would stay married to him, or even gain access to his considerable wealth. The rumor around the shop was that Rachel had agreed to a prenuptial agreement much the same as Sam’s first wife. It gradually appeared that Rachel had a plan to avoid her predecessor’s fate. She made it a point to handle any cash that went through the building. She took control of the vending machines. She diverted the cash clients used for transactions like title transfers and registrations to her pocket. Then she used company checks to make the payment.
It didn’t seem like that much money but it added up over the course of a year. Most of us knew what she was doing, but it didn’t matter to us. The bitch was stealing money from her prick husband. They deserved each other as far as we were concerned.Then my uncle died and left me eight acres of vacant land. It wasn’t much when he bought it, but urban sprawl had encompassed the property. There were strip malls and home improvement centers on all sides. As soon as it was discovered that I was the new owner, the sharks started circling. I never realized how much pressure big businesses could put on a guy. I had representatives from The Olive Garden and Taco Bell stop in to make offers on the property while I was working.The numbers increased with each offer. It was pretty apparent that I would be quite well off if I decided to sell the land. That was when Sam Gault decided to jump into the fray. Why should a moron have something so valuable when a successful man like Sam could pad his coffers with it? That was how it all started.
I wasn’t another Warren Buffet, but I knew that I was sitting on a gold mine. I also knew that any deal that involved Sam would involve me getting fucked. Maybe it was that realization that started my mind formulating a little plot to get back at Sam for some of the shit he had heaped on me over the years. If I managed knock Rachel down a peg or two in the process, so much the better.”Sam, I received an email from some finance minister’s son in Nigeria,” I began one afternoon while I was working on a transmission with Sam standing over me. “If I can get ten thousand dollars in a bank account as a sign of good faith, these guys will deposit twenty-four million in my account within a week. They’re being hounded by rebels that want the minister’s fortune. If I let the minister’s son use my account, they’ll let me keep ten million for my efforts!”
“That sounds like an interesting proposition,” admitted Sam. “Do you have the ten thousand dollars in an account?””Shit, Sam! You know what I make here. There’s no way in hell I could have that much money saved up,” I admitted. “I was just lucky that this finance minister’s son somehow found out that I was a dependable, trustworthy guy. I don’t even know who told them about me, but they said I was exactly what they were looking for.”I think you are, Dave,” agreed Sam. “They were lucky to find you. I can see that.””Thanks, Sam! Coming from a successful man like you, that makes me feel pretty good! That brings me to my problem,” I explained. “If I could just borrow the money for a couple weeks, I could pay it back with interest once I receive the ten million dollars.””I see, Dave. I’d love to help you out, but I have to protect myself. You can understand that, can’t you?” asked Sam. “Just to be on the safe side, if you put that property of yours on Commercial Avenue up as collateral, I’d be happy to loan you the cash.” “Gee, Sam. That 8-acre parcel is supposed to be worth a lot more than that,” I stalled.
“I’m not saying it isn’t, Dave. It’s just insurance for me that you’ll pay me back. Once
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