Did I Tell You The One About The Four Foot Entrepreneur?
THE BUSINESS PLAN: Have you ever dreamed of starting your own business? I did a long time ago. My first get rich scheme was the brain child of my best gal-pal who lived across the street from me on Sycamore Rd. Snapping bubble gum and scuffing her Mary Janes, during a competitive game of hopscotch, she explained our empire. She high ho-sied the position for CEO,wanting to be the brains of the company. I wanted to be the fast talking, wheeler-dealer, mover-and-shaker, “better hide your purse from her honey”, slick -as- grease -lightning, sales guy. To my disappointment, only one hour after hatching out of our entrepreneurial egg shells, she lost complete interest in managing our company, and wanted to play school. I was upset by her fickleness, left in a huff, determined to develop my own business plan.
PICTURE THIS: A small, skinny ADHD kid, hauling a rickety red wagon around the block, trying to pedal her hot off the press publications. She pulled her slightly tattered, unevenly stapled books and crayola cards up and down Sycamore Road, yelling at her wagon from time to time,frustrated by it’s slow as molasses momentum. She couldn’t understand why it could not keep up with her, the very first, and original,energizer bunny. Today, she parked at the end of Old Man Quirk’s driveway, and carefully selected one of her literary masterpieces . She had created it especially for him at breakfast, while slurping milk out of her Life cereal bowl .Shoving it into her front overall pocket, she skipped up to his front door. Like a true professional, she stopped her thumb sucking, and rang his doorbell three times fast. She always insisted on three rings, because three was a magic number. If the neighbor answered the door before the third bell, she’d ask permission to ring it one more time,beginning her educational lecture on magnificent power of three. The neighbor would usually smile, sometimes chuckle, but always agree to her strange request. She was well known in the neighborhood for her precociousness. Old Man Quirk recalled how she had hustled the neighborhood boys in September. Her mother, after placing a pan of shake and bake chicken in the oven, had started a kitchen fire. Within minutes, loud sirens announced the arrival of two large fire trucks. Before you could say Gazoontite, the kind people of Sycamore Rd. gathered outside Old Man Quirk’s house, to watch the smokey show playing out at #32. The “good” sister was crying crocodile tears. Another neighbor, Mrs. Tedeschi , rubbed the good sisters back, trying hard to comfort her. In contrast, the “bad” sister was pumped. She wore a devilish grin, and scalped tickets, displaying pure joy and excitement. She allowed the girls to watch the firemen for free, but the boys had to fork over a penny. If they refused, she became bossy, She barked orders that would make any Marine Sergeant proud. She said they couldn’t watch “her fire”, without purchasing one of her tickets. And now, to Old Man Quirk’s surprise, the same impish child, was looking up at him, flashing a toothless grin, a phony, forced, fake- like- Shirley- Temple- dancing- on- the- Good- Ship grin. He tried to hide his amusement, but wondered. What could she be up to now?
JUST LIKE SHE SAW IN A NOXEMA COMMERCIAL…THE PITCH;
She extended her left arm out theatrically, and pointed to her company car, the little wagon, informing Old Man Quirk that today was his lucky day. Then, the little actress, started imitating what she saw in a Joe Namath commercial. She slowly brought the card up to her face , slightly brushed it against her cheek, and posed, like Farah Faucet did in all the Noxzema Shaving Cream ads. Then came the hard sell: “Mr. Quirk, don’t be a dummy , you need to buy my book.”. What she wanted to say was,”If you walk away from this deal, you must be the offspring of Mississippi Hillbilly cousins, because without a doubt, my books are more exciting to read than watching Neil Armstrong walk on the moon.” She argued this point because the week before on a black and white television screen, she watched Armstrong jump out of his space ship. She didn’t know what all the fuss was about. Everyone in her kindergarten class agreed, the constant news coverage was annoying.To interrupt episodes of HR Puff -In-Stuff , Here comes the Monkeys, (Didn’t ABC know she had a crush on Davy Jones?) and later Hogan’s Heroes was simply unforgivable! At this point of the sale, Old Man Quirk started searching for change. She had sucked him in, the way a Hoover vacuum catches dust bunnies. Oblivious to the fact that he was no longer listening, she kept jibber jabbering. Old Man Quirk, exhausted by the “bad” sister’s high octane motor mouth, was very anxious to close the deal.
CLOSING THE SALE:
This was her favorite part. After the pitch, she was given a shiny silver or copper coin. She would squeal, hop up and down, then compose herself, enough to perform a Von Trap Family style curtsy. Holding the straps of her denim Osh-B-Gosh overalls, she extended both of her pinkie fingers, as if she was sipping tea with Queen Elizabeth. She then thanked the kind neighbor and promised to return, when the sequel was done. Then, with the speed of a Formula 1 race car, she rolled the rickety red wagon down the hill on Sycamore Rd. and crashed it into an old fir-tree, next to her family’s one car garage. Flying faster than Underdog did when rescuing Sweet Polly Purebred, she tripped over the front steps, threw open the door, raised the zip-lock bag filled with pennies above her head, and proudly screamed at the top of her lungs: “MOM!…MOM…I’M RICH!”. This was the part that annoyed her mother, but all kids with ADHD have high energy. She didn’t want to be known as a wallflower, and she actually liked the tag, “little rascal” that her grandparents had given her. Spanky or Alfalfa would be much worse. Even her father, the man who most adored her, would yell after her, as she pealed out the family driveway ,on her pink Barbie bike with training wheels, “Slow down, you’re a train wreck waiting to happen!”…but that’s another story for another hub…
The Moral Of The Story: I was that little entrepreneur, and although my start-up eventually went under, my excitement for writing never left. With that said, I hope my snippet entertained you enough to visit my page again, wondering… What is she up to now?”
Comments left for Lu on hubpages.com:
gwennies pen says: 9 days ago Very cute story. I could envision the whole account, smiling and laughing at all your little girl antics. So fun! I love childhood memories! This one is sweet and a pure joy!!! Thanks for sharing it with us.
SandyMcCollum says: 2 days ago This was a great story! I loved it, and I knew it was you the whole time and you made it sound adorable.
93ralwus says: 2 days ago I like the bad sister, so I like you and this is a well written story. It kept me reading wanting to know more and it has a pleasant suprise ending too. Thanks for a great childhood memory and she reminded me almost of Lil Johnny and his Lil Red Wagon.
Debbie says: 15 hours ago This is great! Memories,…I loved it, you made is sound so cute. I could picture the whole story. I couldn’t stop reading it. Keep up the good work.
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