Sold!

I told the chef about Lashan's friend's car. I noticed it had a 'For Sale' sign at the rear window and had asked Lashan the other day about it. The price tag was irresistible -- and, better still, negotiable. His friend was desperate to have the car sold before leaving for Paris for good. Although it's a tiny hatchback type with obviously a tiny interior space, it would definitely do me good. It has only done a fair amount of mileage, and because it's lady-driven (Lashan's friend is a she), everything else is in almost perfect condition.

The chef was impressed that, without a hitch, he gave me the go. Then came the knock on our door. It was Lashan coming in to join us for dinner. Supersonically rapping the former conversation to him with matching jumps for joy, he watches me with sympathetic eyes.

Oh, dear. I could tell from those doe-y eyes.

"Sold." He said I only asked but made no mention of any intention of buying it; else he could have told his friend I was interested. And on that day after he picked up this friend from the airport, she had received five phone calls from potential buyers and made a decision almost within the hour of those calls.

Well, well, well. I guess this has taught me something. But I'm too disappointed to know what it is.