HELLO! IF YOU HAVE A JUNK AUTOMOBILE OR A RAMSHACKLE HOME THAT YOU JUST CAN’T SEEM TO RID YOURSELF OF, THEN I’M THE MAN YOU’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR. WHETHER THE ENGINE IS KAPUT OR THE HOUSE IS PLAGUED BY RATS, I’LL BUY IT — NO QUESTIONS ASKED — FOR COLD, HARD CASH $$$. ALSO, IF YOU HAVE ANY FREE TIME, I WOULD JUST LOVE SOMEONE TO TALK TO.
YOU SEE, THE BUSINESS OF PURCHASING ITEMS THAT HAVE LITTLE TO NO MONETARY VALUE IS A TRADITION AS OLD AS TIME. TO HONOR IT, I MUST BUY CERTAIN GARBAGE PRODUCTS AT THE LOWEST POSSIBLE PRICE, ONLY TO RESELL THEM LATER AT AN UNFAIR, WILDLY INFLATED MARKUP. UNFORTUNATELY THIS LINE OF WORK INEVITABLY LENDS ITSELF TO A LONELINESS I CAN ONLY DESCRIBE AS, “COLD, HARD, AND SAD 😥😥😥.”
IF YOU WERE TO TELL ME 37 YEARS AGO, “BLAIR, YOU’RE GOING TO DEVOTE YOUR LIFE TO SWINDLING HARDWORKING, SALT OF THE EARTH MIDWESTERN FOLK WITH THE PROMISE OF LARGE CASH OFFERS FOR TRASH, ONLY TO UNDERPAY THEM AND LATER PRICE GOUGE SIMILAR BUMPKINS AT A LATER DATE,” I WOULD HAVE NEVER BELIEVED YOU. BUT NOW HERE I AM, WITH $2.2M TO MY NAME, AN INFINITY POOL, AND ABSOLUTELY ZERO PEOPLE THAT KNOW I’M A THINKING, FEELING HUMAN BEING.
THE THRILL OF HUNTING FOR WHAT MOST WOULD CONSIDER UNSELLABLE DETRITUS HAS BEEN THE DRIVING FORCE BEHIND EVERY DECISION I’VE EVER MADE. DO I WANT TO STOP BY A PARTY OR PURCHASE A DECREPIT VICTORIAN THAT TWELVE PEOPLE DIED IN FOR $130? WOULD I CONSIDER GOING TO THE BALL GAME OR SHOULD I COP A DATSUN SALVAGED FROM A POND POISONED BY FRACKING WASTE? INEVITABLY, I’VE ALWAYS SWAYED TOWARDS THE MONEY, BUT NOW, I SWAY TOWARD ANYONE WHO WILL GIVE ME A MILLISECOND OF THEIR TIME, FOR I HAVE NEVER FELT SO EMPTY INSIDE.
THE CEASELESS PATTERN OF BUYING AND SELLING HAS TAKEN A HEAVY TOLL ON MY SOCIAL SKILLS, RENDERING ME INCAPACITATED IN THE ART OF CONVERSATION. MY BUSINESS-ONLY BRAIN THEREFORE LEADS NOT TO INTERESTING DIALOGUES BUT TO FREQUENT MISUNDERSTANDINGS, OFFENSIVE COMMENTS, AND SEVERELY DAMAGED EARDRUMS. YOU SEE, I AM ONLY CAPABLE OF YELLING — WHICH IS GREAT TO WARN SOMEONE OF AN IMPENDING TRAIN, BUT UNCOUTH WHEN COMMENTING THAT THE BUFFALO CHICKEN DIP IS TOO RUNNY.
ALL I WANT IS TO BE VULNERABLE WITH ANOTHER HUMAN BEING.
HOW ABOUT THIS? SAY YOU HAVE A RUSTY AZTEC OR A SHODDY RANCH-STYLE HOME THAT NO SANE PERSON WOULD WANT — I’LL GLADLY BUY IT OFF YOU IN ADDITION TO, SAY, A LIGHT BRUNCH IN CITY? OR MAYBE A SCREENING AT THE LOCAL INDIE CINEMA? HECK, I’D EVEN SETTLE FOR A WALK IN THE PARK. I’D DOUBLE MY CASH OFFER JUST TO SHARE ONE PRIVATE MOMENT WITH YOU, SWEAR TO GOD. OR I’D TRIPLE IT. I’D EVEN QUADRUPLE IT — ANYTHING TO KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO FEEL.
JUST GIVE ME A RING, YOU HAVE MY NUMBER — IT’S RIGHT ON THE SIGNS YOU SEE LITTERING HIGHWAY ON-RAMPS AND TELEPHONE POLES EVERYWHERE. I WOULD REACH OUT TO YOU, BUT I HAVE NO IDEA WHO YOU ARE. I’LL BE WAITING BY THE LINE, PATIENTLY. EXPECTING YOUR COMMUNIQUÉ. RIGHT NEXT TO A COLD, HARD COLT DRAGOON AND A BULLET, THAT I PRAY WILL WORK — I BOUGHT THIS SUICIDE COMBO PACK FOR ONLY 37 CENTS.
SO, PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU: CALL TODAY!