Crook Takes Pawn Part 24

Diane had indeed moved since last Greg spoke to her, whenever that was. Lets just say Greg had to get a few new calendars since then. The woman he spoke to was nice enough. She gave a forwarding address, and Greg called information to get the number. There. That didnt take long. But Greg could not gather the nerve to call. It had been an eventful day, perhaps he should not press his luck. Let the evening end on a high point.
    Greg removed his dress clothes and took a lengthy shower. As he dried his face, Greg thought of the Oxy bottle. No more weed, might as well pop a pill, which he did. After about an hour, Greg was swept with euphoria. He had only taken the medicine in times of pain, when the holes in his ass were healing. Now that Greg was back to full health, there was nothing to bring down his high. His body lacked a tolerance somewhat, seeing as how he had gone without the pills for awhile now.
    Greg understood then how someone could become addicted to these things. It alleviated all worry, stress, or discomfort. Greg felt almost like another person altogether. This felt amazing, but was also dangerous. Heroine seemed to deter people because most heavy addicts shot it up. But a pill is less threatening. Easy to take, easy to get hooked.
    Greg tried to imagine this sensation doubled, maybe even tripled, depending on how big of doses Donny was taking. You could overdose on this junk, too. Maybe thats what Donny wanted? Who knew. It was evident Greg knew next to nothing about Donny. Greg had been foolish to let him sleep in his store unattended, and should count himself lucky not to have been robbed of more. As a matter of fact, how could Greg say for certain nothing else was taken? Greg didnt exactly employ a rigorous filing, or inventory system. He used his sharp mind to keep track of all things sold and moved in the store.
    The very next action he must take is to purchase some kind of inventory software from the store. That way, he can put item numbers to things, and charts of his store. He might have to close his store altogether for a few days. It was just after spring break, and the heavy flow of shoppers was dying down now.
    Greg needed to retool. The boxes in back had to be sorted. The junk in his storage garage must also be rummaged through. It would take time, but would simplify much in his life. He would dust off his computer and set up a rigorous system, one that was easy to follow, in case he got in good enough shape to hire employees. The idea seemed far-fetched, but Greg was optimistic, for the first time in almost 15 years, he knew what he had to do, and the steps to get there.
    But, there was still one thing. Greg examined his limp comb-over in the mirror. It looked worse when it was wet. His exaggerated hair clung to his scalp like extended fingers. It was time to change. Greg had consciously grown the left section of his healthy hair longer to compensate, to cover up. Whenever he got a haircut, he gave specific instructions on what he wanted. It was embarrassing to explain to a barber to leave his faux-hair overly long, but it was surely an occupational hazard that barbers deal with daily.
    As Greg looked at his comb-over now, he knew it was time to accept facts as they were, and improve upon presentation. Greg stood poised with the electric clippers in his hand. With a flick of his thumb, the buzzers hummed to life. The vibrations carried up to his elbow, as he worked. It did not take long. A few strokes and he was officially horse shoe bald. Greg used a second hand mirror to look at the back of his head now. He grimaced. IT was a blow to his pride, but he was no longer in hiding. And he must admit, it looked much better. He intended to look good for Rebecca tomorrow.


Uploaded 01/31/2012
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