Some days during the middle of summer the laundry room would be unbearably hot and humid. On those days, while I waited for the washing machine to finish, I often thought I’d rather be in my apartment cleaning than sitting down there in the sweltering heat.
I was casually reading the NeighborHoodHerald newspaper on an especially hot and humid day, around mid-August. Suddenly, a small article caught my eye, and all thoughts of discomfort banished in an instant. I knew I had to show it to my friend Kevin. I carefully folded the paper, put it into my washing basket, and took the elevator up to my apartment. Just as I arrived at my apartment’s door I heard the phone ringing. I rushed in and answered the phone. It was Kevin. I told him I had just been about to call him as I had something to tell him I knew he would want to hear.
He told me he was in a hurry to get to an important meeting, with Harold, one of his clients, and wanted me to be there to help him out. We agreed to meet downstairs in the lobby, where he was calling from.
On our way to meet Harold, Kevin began to explain why he needed my help:
“I’m trying for as new project, with Harold, but there’s someone else trying for it too.
I showed him what I had seen in the NeighborHoodHerald. As I suspected, Kevin was indeed very glad to see it.
During the meeting, Harold talked about how he loved Kevin’s work and how happy he was that Kevin wanted so much to work for him, and that he would never work with anybody else besides Kevin. But business wasn’t too good. So he wanted Kevin to take on the project for a much lower rate than he generally did.
After Kevin and I had listened politely to Harold, Kevin said, "Harold, it's really a pleasure to listen to your praises, but please, tell me what Gary said to you. How much does he want for this project?"
Harold's face turned white, then red, and he angrily asked Kevin: “Are you spying on me?”
“Why would I do that?'” Kevin said, and handed Harold the newspaper I'd given him.
There was a small article in the newspaper that one of the neighborhood artists, Gary, was negotiating for a big project at Harold's Company.
Some days during the middle of summer the laundry room would be unbearably hot and humid. On those days, while I waited for the washing machine to finish, I often thought I’d rather be in my apartment cleaning than sitting down there in the sweltering heat.
