The Drip, a novel by Michael Gullo
“Hello.”
“Michael, Brotha-man. Your money landed here Friday, and your form packet landed today. I’m calling to get it all filled out and submitted.”
“Duran Bunch. It’s New Year’s day, why are you working?”
“You’re working, aren’t you?”
“True.”
“How can I ask to manage your money, and I won’t work at least as hard as you do?”
“Cheesy, bro, but it’s not bullshit. Even if you set some kind of phone reminder to wake you between hangover-goody’s-powder shots, it’s you called me, not I called you. That shit’s going on your record.”
“Shh, don’t tell.”
“Okay, let’s run it. I get sixty percent, and you get forty. I manage mine and you manage yours. I need eight thousand a month from you take home, and I want growth. You do whatever you want except lose.”
“Brotha, savor the flavor of that split. Sixty, forty flips inside the year.”
“Duran, I’ll bet you dollars to dick warts that I close this year double your rate of return.”
“I’ll take that bet, Street-Smart-Edge account against the house, and you went with the percents. Maybe if you went with cash weighted average, you’d have a chance, but leveled ground, you might as well buy the salicylic acid now.”
“Figures you’d know the dick wart treatment.”
“And the broke ass needs to borrow money from me to build a house treatment is three forms, CRA, Options Agreement, and Margin Notification. I sent them to your inbox.”
“Ouch. So you have a hundred fifty balanced-batch tickers lined up, designed to pay me ninety-six grand a year and grow the account. That’s some ambitious shit, Duran. You got this?”
“Well, I don’t want dick warts, so sign the forms and email them back. I’ll trade into it starting first thing tomorrow.”
“Dick warts aside, the loan ceiling is like one point three of the two I just deposited from the sale. But that’s max loan amount. The whole idea is borrow no more than fifty percent of value to protect against margin calls in a down market. Leverage the money, not the house, but the dirt work here is going to cost one point three all by itself. I already bought the machines, that’s two-fifty paid out of my pocket…”
“Not again, bro. You got this. Six fifty to start…. Six fifty head room… that’s the one point three. You whittle at that with salary decay, if you ever sell the house, you’re all set…”
“We wrote a deal this weekend, but I fucked that up a little too. I got a seller’s note.”
“Shit, man. That’s a good instrument.”
“I wish I could count it in my year against you.”
“What did you get, seven, eight points?”
“Five.”
“Bro! What the hell?”
“Yeah. I had a guy. I hedged.”
“You hedged?”
“I gotta sell that house, Duran. I need her closer to the family.”
“Yeah, I hear that.”
“So, are you guys getting a short term rental or an RV or something?”
“Nope. I’m moving to the shed we built last week.”
“You got a shed up there already?”
“It’s been a month and a half, so yeah. Driveway, shed. We started working on the workshop today, and the dam is ready to backfill with the spoils.”
“Why build the workshop with money so tight?”
“I didn’t buy the shed materials, Duran. I need like two hundred triple axles worth of dirt for the dam, and I’ll get that from the workshop excavation.”
“I gotta check this place out…”
“Hang on, Stef’s calling. --- Hey, Love of My Life. Hang a sec, I’m on with Duran. I’ll merge it --- Everybody here?”
“Hey, Stef. How are you? I heard you sold the house.”
“Not yet, Duran. We accepted an offer.”
“Have you met this guy?”
“Oh, I’ve met him. I heard you two have a little bet on the books. You better look out. Haven’t you met this guy, he just signed a two million dollar contract left handed with a crayon.”
“So where do I sign all of these forms, Duran?”
“It’s e-sign, Sepia, but I think you can change the color in a drop-down at the sig line.”
“Cute you two. Too bad you can’t buy stock in Crayola. I was just calling to check on you, but I see you’re well entertained. I’ll see you at home. Love you.”
“Love.”
“So cute.”
“Shutup, Duran.”