Tyche
Copyright© 2020 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 93
In the morning, Raul and I picked up Mrs. Metcalfe and we did everything required by the state ... Insurance for a 16 year old girl? To the moon!
It used to be that insurance companies had two rates for teens ... girls were safer drivers ... more mature and a policy for them was considerably cheaper ... then some wiseass lawyer complained about equality under the law. He was planning to get cheaper rates for his son ... Nope ... now girls and guys pay the same.
When asked, Ida ... that’s Mrs. Metcalfe ... said, “Flathead V8 ... standard transmission.”
That’s a bald faced lie ... sure it’s a flathead ... sure it’s a standard shift ... as far as that goes ... nothing was said about the Ferguson heads or 4-71 blower with the computer controlled injectors and crank timing ... nobody mentioned the boxed frame or the Jaguar rearend with the inboard disc brakes. It looks like a stock 1934 Ford Tudor. Looks STOCK ... operative word ... STOCK.
It was the truth ... but not the whole truth. It was innocence by omission.
Insurance? Three bucks a day ... it IS a classic ... and an antique ... but not the five grand a year for a Ferrari.
I paid...
I made it to my 10 o’clock.
Lunch was interesting. My table is all smart girls ... engineering, biology, physics types ... nobody with less than a 170 IQ. They date geeks.
“I have a date ... I’ve never gone on a date. What should I do?” I said.
Talk about surrounded...
Every single one of them had been through the meat grinder of good looking guys in high school ... and they were all surprised at the cop.
Then I mentioned my mind-reading cat ... and busybody.
“Uh huh.” “Yeah, sure.” “Umh.” There was a general distancing and looks askance.
“Raul,” I called.
Remember Raul came with when I picked up Ida ... Mrs. Metcalfe.
I have a confession.
The Mrs. part is honorary. Ida never married ... that’s not to say she didn’t have children ... she did. But ... she had no intention of letting some MAN control her fortune.
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