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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Here's the deal, folks... This is, as indicated, the 2nd HALF of this fairly lengthy poem. Due to Poetry Soup's file-size limitations, this piece had to be posted in 2 parts. The 1st HALF can be accessed, of course, by going to - "Poems by Mark Stellinga" - on the Soup. Sorry for the inconvenience... Thanks for reading, or listening, or both...whatever the case may be - Cheers, Mark I quickly got the feeling he was lying through his teeth, so…just to play along (to tell the truth)…I simply lied. “So how much were you thinking of investing,” he inquired. “Oh…I don’t know…I guess about a million,” I replied. “That’s a lot of money, friend,” he said, from in the haze. (Unprepared to trust him, I continued talking trash.) “Perhaps to some,” I answered…“but it’s pocket change to me. And if it’s all the same to you…I always deal in cash.” He sat there like a statue for a minute, maybe more, and I would watch him closely as he doused his big cigar. The sound of tinkling bottles quivering, in a rolling drawer, betrayed an old affliction, as the smell of mini-bar Filled the foggy office when he reached into his desk, suggesting some uncertainty about what he should say. I guessed a dude like this had never handled major funds, and doubted that a millionaire approached him every day. “Cash is fine with me, young man,” he nervously replied, while topping off a dirty glass. His hands were shaking bad. I knew that he was stalling as he rifled through his papers, contemplating handling funds like he had never had. “Tell me what your preference is...CD’s, or stocks, or bonds.” Then trying hard to act “the fool,” and relishing the ruse… I asked him what he felt was best, explaining that…to me…this was just some extra cash for which I had no use! Squinting through his spectacles with beady little eyes, in disbelief he asked me, in an…are-you-kidding voice, “It sounds to me like you don’t know a thing about the market, and you want me to take your million bucks and make the choice?” “That’s correct,” I told him. “I was hoping you could help. I get a hundred thousand from a trust fund every week. Easy come…easy go,” I giggled with a smile. He downed a couple swigs of booze before I heard him speak. “OK, pal…I’ll do it. But I think…to do it right…you ought to go and get the cash. We’ll put it in my vault! But don’t forget the market is a tricky thing to gauge, and when investors lose their dough…it’s not the broker’s fault.” I had been expecting this from very early on. The office…and the way he looked…were major warning signs, But I was having so much fun just messing with his brain, I thought that I would hang around and throw a few more lines. The “million dollars” comment was a handsome piece of bait, and playing dumb about my options served to set the hook, And when I told him, “I agree. I’ll run and get the cash,” I nearly blew my cover when I saw the anxious look. “Good idea,” he chortled, “smaller bills are usually best, and I wouldn’t mention why you need the cash if I were you. I’ll fill out some paperwork…and make a couple calls. I’ve got a pretty good idea of what I’m going to do.” So did I! His calls would be to book a flight, or cruise…and then a room, so…as I left, I told him, “I’ll be back.” I knew that once the door had closed this slimy little man would grab his liquor, box of big cigars, and - start to pack. Maybe it was cruel of me to toy with him like that, but he’s the one who ran the ad and made the crazy claims. And he’s the one who sent me off to fetch a million cash before we even talked it through, or - knew each other’s names! Yes, I dodged a bullet on that cold December day. I left him there suspecting he was working with a fool Who…like they say…is parted from his money fairly soon, but…for a change…the broker was the one who lost the duel. See…brokers are a lot like dogs. Though many dogs are smart - and most are actually friendly - (if you simply treat them right) - Some cannot be trusted, and…despite the way they look…when you try befriending them.....a few will actually bite! PS: I've got 4 new CDs - @ 4 1/2 hours each = (62 diversely varied poems), listed on EBAY - under - “Mark Stellinga Poetry” - should those of you who travel care to be so entertained. (We use PayPal) Cheers, Mark
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