The exercise:
Write about: the consultant.
Max and I both had much happier days today. Which is quite something on his part, seeing as he has come down with yet another cold. Kat's got it as well, but so far I've managed to avoid it. Just gotta keep moving, right?
Right.
Hoping they're both healthy enough to meet our new niece, who is expected to arrive via scheduled c-section Tuesday morning.
Because, uh, I'd feel kinda guilty about going to see her without them. Especially Kat. She seemed unimpressed this evening when I promised to take lots of pictures...
Mine:
"I'm sorry, you're a what?"
"You heard me."
"... I guess I did. So you, like, do this professionally?"
"Absolutely. And I make a very good living doing what I do."
"I find that hard to believe."
"Well, not everyone in my field can afford the suits that I can afford. Then again, I'm one of the very best."
"I imagine the competition is fierce."
"You're mocking me when you should be hiring me. I could be the difference maker you never knew you needed."
"Do you guarantee your results?"
"Of course. Happy client, happy consultant. More references from you, happier bank account for me."
"You got a business card or something?"
"Take three, pass them out to your buddies. From what I've seen, they could use me almost as badly as you do. That is, assuming you're not going to hire me for yourself."
"I didn't say that. Let me look at that."
"Take your time."
"Huh, it even says it right here: Professional Mini Golf Consultant."
"Give me a week and you'll be getting nothing but hole-in-ones on every course in the Midwest."
2 comments:
You seem to be the nexus of all cold-related illness in Canada! I'm starting to feel like I should catch a cold too just to show sympathy and solidarity with you all!
I can completely understand why Kat would be unimpressed with just pictures -- you should totally offer to stream live video for her and take direction over a headset... ;-)
Heh, I like the misdirection you were attempting in your piece but I knew you were going to twist the ending. Granted, I never guessed Mini Golf, but I was really enjoying guessing and listening to the conversation evolve.
The consultant
The hotel lobby was intended to evoke Scandinavia: the walls were panelled in a light wood that might have been pine, the furniture was all angles and minimalism and they'd turned the heating off. Ice crystals crackled gently at the corners of the plate glass windows that showcased the sunken gardens and the barman, wearing a parka and wooly hat, was tall and blonde.
Leboudeau ignored it all and walked in with the air of a man in a hurry and trying to be polite about it. His gray eyes scanned the lobby like a burglar planning a job until they fell on a man and a woman sat uncomfortably close on a futon. The futon was as close to the large brick fireplace as possible, and if it has only held a fire it would have been a cosy scene.
"Christie," he said as he sat down opposite them. The woman, chestnut hair falling in long, glossy ringlets to her shoulders, allowed a faint smile to caress her vermilion-painted lips. "Who's your friend?"
"Danforth," said the man holding out a hand. Leboudeau's lips turned slightly -- it might have been a snarl or just gallic disdain.
"Danforth is a marriage consultant," said Christie.
"I facilitate marriages between parties such as yourselves," said Danforth. He finally retracted his hand and looked faintly hurt.
"We don't want to get married," said Christie. "We want to have other people married."
"Ideally without their knowledge," said Leboudeau. His eyes twinkled and he and Christie shared a secret smile.
Danforth sucked air between his teeth like a mechanic confronted with a three-car pile-up.
Greg - do they even have colds in Malta? :P
Yeah, there was no way mine was headed toward an expected ending. I might have carried on a little too long before I got there though.
Great scene setting at the start of yours, as usual. I could quite picture being there - and freezing my butt off too! Danforth, me thinks, is in for quite the meeting with those two.
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