Chapter 73: Overture

After going for a test drive and a few minutes of negotiating, we still haven't reached a consensus."I can't do that. I would get no commission if I sold it for $32,000."

"Let me tell you this. If you make it $32,000, I will come back here in a few months, during your work hours, and buy a few more cars."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?"

"Look," I said, "I've already bought two cars from you within the last five months. Is it really that hard to believe?"

Lynn fell silent for a moment, her emotions building inside her.

"Okay, okay!" she sighed. "But if you don't keep your promise..."

"I always keep my promises." I assured her.

Nothing would happen even if I didn't keep my promise...

With that, we moved on to the paperwork and just a few minutes later, I was opening the door of my new snow white BMW M5.

The creamy, soft leather seats contrasted strikingly with the dark dashboard and as I sat down, the seat cradled me comfortably.

I adjusted the driver's seat, sitting low and snug with a view of the road through the tinted windows.

As I started the engine, it roared with a deep, satisfying growl.

What was beautiful about this car was that, if treated with proper care, its value would remain high for years.

As I drove back home, a thought came to me. 'Why am I so stingy?'

When I parked in the driveway, my family started overreacting, as always. 'Omigod! That's fricking awesome!' , 'Son. Even my Mercedes was cheaper!', 'Darling, you should know better. You need to be more frugal.'

'More frugal? Aren't I frugal enough?' I though.

I spent the rest of the weekend with my family and I also visited my grandpa, who casually mentioned he had bet $8,000 on the Super Bowl matchup between the Buccaneers and the Raiders.

He had placed the bet at the beginning of October with 58:1 odds.

When I heard this, a wide grin spread across my face.

I'm going to have a rich grandpa soon...

On Sunday evening, I gripped the solid wheel of my Snow White and drove back to Gainesville.

...

On Monday, I had my first meeting with Professor Blake and the rest of the team for the College Fed Cup. The meeting was a bit dull, but we focused on considering which sources to use for the presentation.

Alex mentioned the U.S. Bureau of Economic Analysis, BEA for short, and the Bureau of Labor Statistics, BLS, which were obviously good sources.

However, since the competition was hosted by the Federal Reserve, I proposed we prioritize papers from the Federal Reserve Banks in New York, Cleveland, Chicago, and St. Louis.

I also said that we should focus on data that has to do with monetary policies.

After the DOTCOM bubble, it was clear that banks were making it harder to get consumer loans, which could really fuck up the economy.

It would not take long for credit card, loan, and mortgage delinquency rates to reach a level that would become dangerous.

The girl from 2nd year, Adrianna was her name; she proposed that we could make a section focused on racial inflation gaps. "It could be a great topic for monetary policy change," she said.

Daniel, a third-year student, agreed with me that even though the DOTCOM bubble wasn't prevalent anymore, it should still be our focus; that we should extensively talk about how the economy was recovering from it's effects.

Since we only had 15 minutes for the presentation, there was only so much we could pack into it.

But I have to say that this was probably the only time I saw Alex this serious...

We divided the work among ourselves and wrapped up the session.

...

Exactly as it was supposed to happen, on Tuesday, November 13th, articles about Tenet Healthcare Corp.'s shady business began to flood the internet, and the stock, which stood at $196, fell from it's firm throne to the depths of hell.

By the Market Open, it had already nosedived to $89 and didn't stop there; it continued to slide lower as the day progressed.

By Friday it was trading at $38 a share.

The company was knees deep in shit, or more specifically, in lawsuits.

But hey! Not my toilet, not my shit.

During the week, I put tax money into a different account and assessed how much money I still had.

[Bank Of America]

------------

[Account Owner: Jack Somnus]

[Account Balance: $1,788,143.25]

------------

I transferred $1.7 million from my Bank of America account into my Charles Schwab account.

For now, I left the funds untouched.

The end of 2002 was far from fireworks. I could not remember any stocks that were on an uptrend at this time. Almost all big stocks were either a flat line or dropping.

It was much better to wait. There was one particular stock that I remember trading in person in 2003.

I was a virgin trader at the time and it was my first time.

It quickly became my most hated stock.

Axon Enterprise. One of the companies that would receive a military contract from the government.

...

It was Friday evening, and I was playing basketball with Hana and the boys.

Hana had even changed her basketball clothing.

She was no longer wearing buggy men's clothes; instead, she wore black women's basketball shorts, secured with a white elastic band tightened around her waist and ending a few inches above her knees, as well as a white cropped top, reaching just below her belly button.

She had a very slim figure, I noticed.

As we finished playing, I walked up to her.

"Are you going to Charlotte's concert today?" I asked her as I wiped the sweat from my forehead.

Hana locked her eyes with me. "I'd like to, but it's like a 40-minute walk. My dad's out of town, and I don't have any transport."

"I can pick you up," I offered. "Do you have a room at the dorms?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No, actually, I live in a family house close to campus."

"What's the address?"

"NW 10th Ave..." she said and then gave me the house number.

"Expect me around 8:20p.m.," I told her.

The concert started at 9p.m, so we would have enough time to get there.

...

When the time came, I put on my suit and drove my BMW to the address Hana had given me.

The neighborhood had so many trees that it could be called a forest, if not for the houses scattered around and in between.

I parked in front of the house and pressed the horn.

Hana walked out a minute later in a thin and minimalistic black dress, black stockings, and black heels.

'Is she going to a funeral?' I thought.

I got out and held the passenger door open for her.

"Uuu, what a gentleman," she said playfully.

"Please, get in or we'll be late."

With a light laugh, she jumped into the passenger seat, and I closed the door behind her.

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