my car,” she said.
“Pop the hood, ma’am.”
She did as she was told. While he fumbled around under the hood, she called Joe, who was busy with another customer at his shop. Egypt called her wanting to know what was going on and got there within ten minutes while Mr. Grease Monkey supposedly diagnosed the car. Looking around at all the broke-down, old, half-way-taken-apart cars on the lot, Bambi wasn’t comfortable with the idea of leaving her car, but what choice did she have? She gave Grease Monkey her cell phone number to call her if he found anything, and she and Egypt went to get something to eat.
While they were eating, Joe called back and explained to Bambi that the smoke she saw wasn’t anything to worry about. Oil had probably spilled on the motor when the oil had been changed. He assured her that it would eventually burn off in a day or so. Although it seemed a little crazy that a professional dealership didn’t have a way of avoiding spilling oil on the motor, she believed Joe. Egypt said she had heard that before, too.
Within minutes after Joe’s phone call, Grease Monkeycalled. “Miss, I got some bad news and some good news. Which one you wanna hear first?”
“Give me the bad news first,” Bambi said into the phone, while rolling her eyes at Egypt.
“Your motor is in bad condition.”
While Bambi was thinking, This is some bullshit, Egypt questioned her with her eyes.
“Your motor is about to go any day now. I can always fix it for you, less than the dealer or any other mechanic shop will, but as pricey as these cars are, you are better off getting you a new car.”
“Is that right?” she said nonchalantly.
“Yup, but I do have some good news, too.”
“Ahhh, let me hear it,” she said.
“Look, I can take the car off yo hands if you want to sell it.”
“Is that right?”
“Yup, I mean I fix cars, so I can make you an offer so you can have enough to get a down payment towards a new car.”
Bambi listened as the Grease Monkey tried to run game on her. She told him that she would talk to him when she got back to the shop. When she arrived back at the shop, she told him that she had to think about it and would be calling him.
She later met Joe at the junkyard. While he removed the mirror off of the junk Corvette, she went inside to pay for the part. She sat down in the dingy blue chair that had permanent oil stains and filed her fingernails. The man who owned the junkyard was Joe’s friend, and he asked Bambi, “May I make a suggestion to you?”
Bambi did not really want to hear his comments, but she was willing to listen to him.
“The parts on your car are not cheap. Now I have that Corvette out there that has been wrecked. Corvettes are not somethingthat come through this junkyard or any junkyard much, so what I am suggesting to you is you should buy the whole Corvette. I will give it to you at a good price. I would let it stay here, and whenever you need a part, it’s here for you to get. And if anyone else needs parts off of it, they’ll have to call you and pay you for them.”
She thought for a minute, and all of a sudden filing her nails didn’t seem so important. Hmm, it’s like an investment, huh? I guess like Reggie would say, I can wholesale the car. It’s like buying a key of coke and breaking it down to flatfoot it, selling other people parts of it. She smiled because it sounded like a good idea.
“How much?” she asked.
“Ummmm, give me 900 for it?”
“Oh, hell no, I’ll give you six for that smashed-down, beat-up looking car.”
“Deal.” They shook. She wrote a check and realized she was just about down to the wire, but soon she wouldn’t have to worry—as long as Disco kept his word.
He left and went to the back and got the title. “Keep this in a safe place. You never know when you will need it.”
CHAPTER 7
He Done Messed with
Good Help
B ambi headed over to see her cousin, Zonna, who lived with Grandma Ellie. Grandma Ellie
“Pop the hood, ma’am.”
She did as she was told. While he fumbled around under the hood, she called Joe, who was busy with another customer at his shop. Egypt called her wanting to know what was going on and got there within ten minutes while Mr. Grease Monkey supposedly diagnosed the car. Looking around at all the broke-down, old, half-way-taken-apart cars on the lot, Bambi wasn’t comfortable with the idea of leaving her car, but what choice did she have? She gave Grease Monkey her cell phone number to call her if he found anything, and she and Egypt went to get something to eat.
While they were eating, Joe called back and explained to Bambi that the smoke she saw wasn’t anything to worry about. Oil had probably spilled on the motor when the oil had been changed. He assured her that it would eventually burn off in a day or so. Although it seemed a little crazy that a professional dealership didn’t have a way of avoiding spilling oil on the motor, she believed Joe. Egypt said she had heard that before, too.
Within minutes after Joe’s phone call, Grease Monkeycalled. “Miss, I got some bad news and some good news. Which one you wanna hear first?”
“Give me the bad news first,” Bambi said into the phone, while rolling her eyes at Egypt.
“Your motor is in bad condition.”
While Bambi was thinking, This is some bullshit, Egypt questioned her with her eyes.
“Your motor is about to go any day now. I can always fix it for you, less than the dealer or any other mechanic shop will, but as pricey as these cars are, you are better off getting you a new car.”
“Is that right?” she said nonchalantly.
“Yup, but I do have some good news, too.”
“Ahhh, let me hear it,” she said.
“Look, I can take the car off yo hands if you want to sell it.”
“Is that right?”
“Yup, I mean I fix cars, so I can make you an offer so you can have enough to get a down payment towards a new car.”
Bambi listened as the Grease Monkey tried to run game on her. She told him that she would talk to him when she got back to the shop. When she arrived back at the shop, she told him that she had to think about it and would be calling him.
She later met Joe at the junkyard. While he removed the mirror off of the junk Corvette, she went inside to pay for the part. She sat down in the dingy blue chair that had permanent oil stains and filed her fingernails. The man who owned the junkyard was Joe’s friend, and he asked Bambi, “May I make a suggestion to you?”
Bambi did not really want to hear his comments, but she was willing to listen to him.
“The parts on your car are not cheap. Now I have that Corvette out there that has been wrecked. Corvettes are not somethingthat come through this junkyard or any junkyard much, so what I am suggesting to you is you should buy the whole Corvette. I will give it to you at a good price. I would let it stay here, and whenever you need a part, it’s here for you to get. And if anyone else needs parts off of it, they’ll have to call you and pay you for them.”
She thought for a minute, and all of a sudden filing her nails didn’t seem so important. Hmm, it’s like an investment, huh? I guess like Reggie would say, I can wholesale the car. It’s like buying a key of coke and breaking it down to flatfoot it, selling other people parts of it. She smiled because it sounded like a good idea.
“How much?” she asked.
“Ummmm, give me 900 for it?”
“Oh, hell no, I’ll give you six for that smashed-down, beat-up looking car.”
“Deal.” They shook. She wrote a check and realized she was just about down to the wire, but soon she wouldn’t have to worry—as long as Disco kept his word.
He left and went to the back and got the title. “Keep this in a safe place. You never know when you will need it.”
CHAPTER 7
He Done Messed with
Good Help
B ambi headed over to see her cousin, Zonna, who lived with Grandma Ellie. Grandma Ellie
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