There exists a school of thought--a way of doing business--which involves taking a prospective client out for drinks, engaging in small talk, then sitting back and waiting for the drinks to do their work before urging a proposal. Get your target good and liquored up, and the job's twice as easy. There exists also a similar school in dealing with ( Read more... )

What am I looking forward to? Let's see. There are many hypothetical situations that I would like to see. I would like to see Mitch and Murray finally make that offer of an office of my own. I would like to see Williamson get his ass fired. Some prime goddamn leads. I would like to say that I'm looking forward to getting laid tonight... What the ( Read more... )

1. Laugh if you will--that is your prerogative--but I enjoy selling real estate. There's something about dealing with these people that keeps me thinking, keeps me on my toes. Makes life interesting. This is not to say that I enjoy all parts of my job. You want to spend more than five minutes in that office, tell me you enjoy it, that's your ( Read more... )

"What, George?"

He didn't have time for this. He was trying to be patient--with George, he usually did try--and he was succeeding, being very still and scarcely harsh, but it wouldn't last long. The longer George groped to find some phrase that might actually make its way out of his throat and into a coherent conversation, the more sharply aware ( Read more... )

This is just one more reason to steer clear of any long-term relationship. I'm not just talking marriage, here. I mean living with a woman, I mean staying with any woman for a couple of months. You do that, you give her a chance to get her claws into you. Big fucking mistake. You are very much mistaken if you think she won't use that opportunity, ( Read more... )

You've got to be fucking with me.

You want something, you go out and get it yourself. Magic potion? No, thank you. No goddamn way. You think I'm going to trust some sort of "magical potion," you're out of your goddamn mind. Yes, please, hand me that magical drink you've got there, and everything'll be swell. I'll have that Cadillac, I'll have more ( Read more... )

Mike's car wasn't in the drive ( Read more... )

Uh-huh?

Two words for you:

Bull. Shit.

((OOC-note says it comes in response to this picture, ye-es.))

He'd had one hell of a night. Hell of a morning, too, spent in the best possible way. The woman he'd picked up had proven to be a worthwhile endeavor, displaying more skill than he had honestly expected. Not that she'd be sticking around; he'd directed her out shortly before leaving for the office. She'd been good looking, Christ yes, but between ( Read more... )

He was ten minutes late. FuckIt wasn't a hangover--if he had one, he didn't notice it--and he hadn't overslept. He'd left enough time, the way he always did, to drive to the office, providing for difficulties with traffic... And for all of that, he'd still been fucking delayed, because some jackass had gone and gotten himself into a head-on ( Read more... )