America 1982-Chapter 222 - 78: The Business of Clearing Weeds_2
Dennis clapped his hands excitedly and quickly walked toward the door, not forgetting to boast to the club’s bouncer, "Cool! Did you hear that? I’m off to hook up with a Californian-Mexican babe!"
After Dennis had left, Tommy took the cocktail passed to him by the bartender and gave a strong sniff at the mint leaves around the rim, letting the cool scent shoot straight up his nostrils to his brain; then, with a shake of his head, he said, "It’s hard to imagine, with all the money I’ve made and turning into a rich man, I only truly feel happy screwing around in clubs like this that only poor bastards come to, with two idiot buddies."
"You said you’d introduce me to some legislators, and that’s why I came to this backwater from New York. I know some of them have been in touch with you, especially those damn representatives from Florida and Massachusetts." Jim looked at Tommy. "So, you’re not really planning to introduce me to any politicians in this dump, right?"
"Loan me thirteen hundred bucks, and I’ll definitely pay you back. It sucks to be watched over by the bouncers," Tommy said with a smile to Jim.
Jim cursed and pulled out his credit card from his wallet, handed it to the bouncer, and after the bouncer had settled the account, Tommy finally breathed a sigh of relief, "The main reason I contacted you was about a little business deal..."
"I’m here mostly for the politicians, only idiots would be interested in your so-called little business. Listen, Tommy, I like you. You’re young, not too dumb, but the banking business isn’t for you, got it? It’s not some trendy software thing. Those wealthy old farts might not get the software biz, but they sure as hell know how to play the banking game. Every banking service you’re eyeing is basically stealing business from other banks. Consider yourself lucky I’m telling you why you shouldn’t be in this line of work and introduce me to the politicians. National Review needs them, and I need them," Jim cut in impatiently and advised.
Tommy looked at Jim with serious appreciation and nodded slightly, "I look pretty stupid with my idea, don’t I?"
"That’s right, you used to be a high-class call girl that caught my interest, get it? Sexy, stylish, skilled in the art. Now you’re more like street-level quality, might even risk catching a disease from a single romp, and would need various antibiotics to save your junk," Jim lit a cigarette and said to Tommy.
"You can do whatever the hell you like, but count me out. I’m just hoping to expand my political connections, you owe me one, remember? I helped you out."
"How come I recall it’s you who owes me one, as I helped you create the chance for revenge. You should be thanking me," Tommy took a sip of his cocktail, smiling as he spoke.
Jim exhaled with annoyance, "Now I know how irritating I must be in other people’s eyes, thanks, Tommy. You’re like a caring mirror to me. Anyway, I’m not interested in your business idea; it’s a shithole. You don’t have enough cash to cover your ass. Let’s rather talk about the chick you were banging on the phone, I might find that more interesting."
"Like I said, I wasn’t sleeping with any woman, those were the sounds of money mating," Tommy again defended himself.
Jim shot a glance at Tommy, "Then why did you have to pull up your pants?"
"Because I was sitting on the toilet, listening to the radio," Tommy responded.
Listening to such a lazily contrived excuse, Jim blew out a cloud of smoke, "That excuse isn’t bad, pretty creative. Was it a woman’s voice coming from the radio?"
"Bob, who helps me sell software, asked me to solve a problem. He’s got a tissue box with a radio feature that’s selling poorly, but the manufacturers are willing to pay enough in advertising fees. When he called to congratulate me on my new book’s sales, he casually asked if I knew a way to boost the sales. I told him it was simple—have the manufacturers set up an adult radio station, then discreetly market it to high school boys to spice up their bathroom *** time. Adults spend far less time in the bathroom than teenagers, and we were all teenagers once; we know what goes on when we hide out in there. I was testing the product Bob sent me while I was on the toilet when I called you," Tommy explained, examining his glass.
After listening, Jim nodded noncommittally, "So it really was the sound of money mating. I bet you didn’t offer the sales pitch for free."
Tommy didn’t continue talking about the radio but went straight to his business idea, "I wasn’t thinking of stealing business from the banks; I just wanted to pick up what the banking industry has discarded. After the recent overselling of credit cards, the government and financial institutions together refined financial regulations. This resulted in many of the poor who maxed out their cards and couldn’t pay being blacklisted as high credit risks. Banks won’t open accounts for them or issue them credit cards. Do you know how many people are in this group that’s denied any service by traditional financial institutions? Millions. Low-income earners, drunks, drug addicts, bankrupts, the homeless, cheap hookers... These people used to be prime customers in the eyes of banking institutions. The banks barely did any due diligence and sent a flurry of credit cards their way, only to blame these poor souls when they ran up debts they couldn’t pay and to blacklist them outright. These people... we’re going to give them a chance to start over..."
