Why Didn't I Just...
Copyright© 2006 by Openbook
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 12 - Jimmy Gordon has spent his life drinking, smoking and making money. Now, his lifestyle has caught up with him and he has no time left. At home, drinking and feeling sorry for himself, he finds the one thing he really needs, a second chance.
By ten thirty Tuesday morning, another one of my previous life's bubbles had been burst. I had always believed, without any evidence to back up that belief, that I could have been a pretty good athlete if I had chosen to participate and practice. My tennis class was quickly disabusing me of that particular notion. We had been paired off by the instructor, and told to practice just getting the balls back over the net. My hitting partner was a young guy like myself, and not someone who looked very fit or coordinated. Even so, he was faring far better than I was. He would hit to me, and I'd swing and hit it or miss it completely. When I did make contact, who knew where the damn ball would go. Not me, obviously. I was getting pissed off, and already regretted having signed up for the class.
Jimmy, would you like some assistance?
<What do you mean?>
Would you like me to assist you in playing better? I can help you with your hand eye coordination, and teach you instantly how to move better on the court.
<My coordination is good, it's just that I've never played sports before.>
You are the worst player out here today. People are beginning to feel sorry for you. If you're going to continue, you really should allow me to assist you. It will make the game far more enjoyable for you.
<Give me a small demonstration of what you're talking about. Not too much, just a little demonstration.> I didn't feel any different, but I started making contact with the ball near the center of my strings, and sending it back, over the net to the other guy. This continued for several minutes, then the instructor called a halt to what we were doing, and started pairing us up with different people. This time, I was paired with a boy who at least looked athletic. We started hitting balls back and forth, and he was a lot better than the last boy had been. We started really knocking it back and forth, neither of us hitting it out of bounds or into the net. I could feel that the voice had raised my skill level up several notches, in order to allow me to keep up with the other player. We went at it like that for about ten minutes, and then I was starting to get tired, making some mistakes, and hitting it out of his reach, or into the net. The whistle blew, and the instructor told us that we were finished for the day. I went inside the locker room and took a shower and changed back into my regular clothes.
"Gordon, what was that all about out there?" It was the tennis instructor. He was standing right beside me before I had even noticed that he was near.
"I'm sorry, coach, what do you mean?"
"I mean, why did you start out acting like you had two left feet, and then start playing well enough to rally with Henderson? I don't get why you'd want to do that."
"I hadn't held a racket in a long time. It took me a few minutes for it all to come back to me."
"That's bullshit, but I'll let it go for now. Don't make people feel bad, like you did with the Turner kid. There's no reason why he should have to be made fun of. I'm not going to have to warn you about stuff like this again, am I?"
"No, coach. I'm sorry if that's how it looked to you. I didn't mean for it to be like that."
"I'll be watching you, Gordon. This isn't one of those classes where you get an "A" just for attending. I will expect to see you out there working hard every week. Are you thinking about going out for the team in the Spring?"
"The tennis team?"
No, the bowling team. Of course, the tennis team."
"I'll be watching you, Gordon." He turned and left.
<Thanks for that.>
You're welcome. I would think you'd prefer to be thought a bad sport, rather than a physical incompetent.
<Now the coach thinks I was jerking his chain.>
Actually, he's hoping to change your mind about competing for him.
<I'm going to get myself a Cadillac. Are you planning on assisting me with that too?>
I could. I happen to know a lot about what a car is going to do in the future. That Chevy of yours, I'd advise you to trade it in soon. It's going to need a new set of rings before long.
<Why didn't you tell me that before I bought it?>
You never asked for my advice.
<Well, I'm asking for it now. I don't want to spend a couple thousand dollars for a car that is going to give me a lot of trouble.>
I got in the Chevy and drove down to Renick Cadillac, over on Euclid. I'd bought several Cadillacs there during my first time through. I walked around the lot, looking at their late model trade ins, but nothing caught my eye. I had just about decided to try somewhere else, when a older guy came out and greeted me. He gave me a card, and asked me what I was interested in. I told him that I didn't see anything on the lot that I liked, and he asked me how much I was able to spend.
"I'm looking for something a year or two old, almost new looking, with low miles. Do you have something like that?"
"Have you thought about a demo car? We have a couple that we can give you a good price on. Do you mind if I take a look at your trade in?"
"No, go right ahead. Can we see those demos afterwards?" The guy walked all around my car, actually kicked one of my tires and asked me questions about my car, like I was trying to sell it to him or something. He had me open the trunk and he got inside the front and back seats and looked under the hood. I told him the truth, including the fact that I had purchased it only a week before. He asked me what I'd paid for it, and I told him three fifty. He seemed pretty satisfied, and took me into the showroom and got himself a set of keys, and motioned me to go with him out to the service area.
He walked up to a green Caddy and opened the driver's door and motioned me inside. I got in and sat down. This car looked new, it had less than three thousand miles on the odometer, and I really liked how comfortable the seat was.
"Want to drive it?"
He walked around and got in on the passenger side. "Start her up and let's take her out." I started the car, and the engine purred. It was a real engine, and I could sense the power.
<What about this one?>
Nice, it's his car. He's the owner. He came out because the two other salesman he has working the floor right now didn't want to be bothered talking to a young kid like you. He wants to teach them a lesson and sell you this car. He'll take $2,800 plus your Chevy in trade. I think that's very reasonable. I was out on Orangethorpe Ave, heading towards Buena Park. The car ran perfectly.
"Do you like this big car, son?"
"Yes, sir, you can't beat a Cadillac for a smooth, comfortable ride. I'd sure like to own it if we can come to terms."
"I'm reasonable son, just make me an offer."
"How about my Chevy and $2,800.00 to boot. Does that sound about right, Mr. Renick?" He laughed. A deep, throaty laugh.
"You one of them mind readers that they show on the television? That's just about what I was figuring to get from you. How did you know who I was? It wasn't on that card that I gave you."
"I just figured that, as young as I look, the other salesman would have just ignored me. An owner would know not to judge a customer before first qualifying him. So, are we going to do some business?"
"How would you like to come and work for me, son? I can teach you this business in a heartbeat."
"Well, I'm a Cadillac man through and through, but I buy them, not sell them."
"How many Cadillacs have you bought, son?
"This will be my first."
"Yes it will." He put his hand out and we shook on the deal. "How do you want to handle the payment, Mr. Gordon?"
"I was hoping that you'd take cash."
"Well, you're in luck then, because we certainly do. Welcome to the Renick Cadillac family. If that car gives you any trouble at all, you just bring it in to me, and I'll make sure that we take good care of you. A man that's already starting to buy Cadillac's for cash at your age, we sure want to keep him happy." The paperwork didn't take long, and I noticed the two salesmen with pained expressions as I counted out the money for Mr. Renick. I'm not sure who was happier, him or me. We shook hands, and I left with my almost new Cadillac, and a full tank of gas. The new models would be out soon, but I was real happy with my purchase.
<Thank you for your help.>
You're very welcome, Jimmy. I think you've made a good purchase. Mr. Renick will remember you too. He was impressed with you.
When I got back to Tiny's, he was all excited with some news of his own. He'd found a boat and trailer that he was really thrilled with. It was four hundred dollars, but he started telling me about how good it was and all of the extras that came with the boat. I knew nothing about boats, so when he started talking about trolling motors, boat covers and life preservers, none of it meant that much to me.
"Do you think it's that good a deal Tiny?"
"I know it is, Jimmy. If I only had the money, I'd buy it myself. Wouldn't even have to think twice about it."
"All right, let's do it. We can surprise dad with it as soon as he gets here." I reached into my pocket and counted out the four hundred dollars. "Have you got a trailer hitch on your car, Tiny?"
"No, I've never needed one before."
"Do you think you can get one for fifty bucks?"
"I doubt if it would be that much, Jimmy. More like twenty five or thirty, installed." I peeled off another fifty and handed it to him.
"Get a hitch installed tomorrow, so you can bring our new boat home." He was a happy man as he ran inside to make a phone call to the man who was selling the boat. I could get used to this buying whatever I wanted to while I was still young enough to enjoy it all.
<What do you think?>
Terri is going to resent Tiny buying a boat while her range has two burners that don't work. She's been after him to fix it for her or else get her a new stove. It is becoming a sore spot with her.
"How much would a new one cost?"
Less than two hundred for a real good one at Sears.