WEIRD & WONKY WORLD WRITING CHALLENGE

Manage the Damage

         Bob wiped his dusty hands on a rag he pulled from his back pocket and then swiped at his perspiring face leaving a reddish smear across his forehead. While he more than appreciated the surge in business he puzzled about the uptick in customers requesting autobody repairs. Unless he'd missed the passing of a few months which could be possible considering the whirlwind roller coaster of being the chief welder/fabricator/painter and accountant, he could not quite comprehend his fortune. It definitely was not moose strike season. Winter had yet to blow in with treacherous icy roads and whiteout blizzards. He surveyed his shop with wonder.

         All four bays were occupied by vehicles in various states of restoration. Five more projects waited outside. He could not contain the grin upturning the corners of his mouth. His whistling reflected his delight.

         A shout interrupted his reflection.

         "Hey boss! Another two potential customers just drove up. Can you manage the damage?"

         What did that little train say, over and over? I think I can. Wait, I know I can. Well, if they give me some breathing room. Bodywork takes time. The latest customers seem to have grasped this. If they seek perfection I will give it to them, but it doesn't happen over night. Pretty soon the lot will be at capacity.

         Grabbing a pad of preprinted forms and a pen Bob strode outside. Seeing his newest hire greeting the car enthusiasts with a handshake he nodded in approval. The kid appeared to be a natural salesman. He had a knack for putting people at ease. In fact, he was the one to coin that new shop phrase manage the damage. He had to hand it to the newbie. Damage was their bread and butter. Vehicle owners paid good money to alleviate it.

         Assessing a vehicle's repairs and drawing up an estimate was an investment, an investment in time.

         If accepted it will also lead to a payment. A mutual customer-service provider arrangement. No time to be hesitant. Why am I rhyming?Tapping the forms against his leg Bob loped over to Jim and the two men hanging on his every word. They were all laughing. One gentleman slapped Bob on the shoulder.

         "I'd like to congratulate you sir for hiring this whippersnapper. Have you noticed he has a way with words? Never before has someone put me at such ease. As my Irish Nan would say he's blessed with a silver tongue. I like his positive spin."

         "Thank you kind sir. Here, we value the customer and his specific needs. We appreciate that your ride is a reflection of you. Jim is every bit a car enthusiast. He's keen to restore everything. Isn't that right, Jim?"

         "Yes sir, boss. I was explaining to these fine car buffs that we turn dings into bling. Before your money is all spent let us repair the dent. I pointed out that we sand by hand to make their cars grand."

         Hmmm, is that where I'm picking up the rhymes? Is it kitschy or over the top? These two seem to like it. Maybe Jim is onto something. Have I employed a future jingle writer? Entice the customers with catchy word play?

"Would you be ready to try your hand at your first estimate, Jim? You've created a positive rapport. Here's the itemized list. Just check off the specific repairs needed. I'll tally the bill with parts replacement, repaints and such. Go ahead."

         Smiling from ear to ear, the young apprentice accepted the papers and pen.

         "Both of these drivers were involved in the same fender bender. It sounded like an accident blender with multiple vehicles. Luckily, neither of them was in the up-ender. They also did not require a tow to be rendered, or is that tendered? The drunk driver has been suspended and there was no need for him to be apprehended. I'm sorry. Have I blurted too much? Are you offended?"

         Bob stifled a giggle behind an upraised paint-stained hand and waggled his eyebrows at the would-be clients. This kid certainly did have a free hand with words. His eagerness to please and perhaps to entertain did not grate. His manner was refreshing, perhaps eccentric, but not off-putting. After a car accident nerves were often frayed and the victims appeared tense. They needed to hear that everything would be okay.

         As the now three men watched, Jim circled the vehicles and inspected the battered bodies. He muttered to himself as he paused to squint and poke.

         "That scratch will need a patch and a colour match. That lump will need a bump. That scuff looks rough. Will a buff be enough? We can make that a fine shine again. Is there a droop in that hood scoop? Should that trunk close with a clunk? Oh, heck is that a speck from the wreck? Calibrate. Fabricate. Eliminate. Lubricate? A big dent on the door. What is wear and tear?"

         With a cough that served to clear his throat, the second man spoke.

         "Um, is it okay if I ask you something?"

         "Sure, fire away," responded Bob.

         "Where did you find this kid? He's kinda different. Not in a bad way, but not exactly peculiar either. Is it just me, or does he play with words, rhyme them?"

         Bob chuckled.

         "Oh, I'm not about to disagree with you. I hear the rhymes, too. Sometimes, I do it now. It kinda rubbed off on me."

         "But where did he come from? I've never been to a garage where the guys speak like that."

         Bob shrugged.

         "He just wandered in one day and chatted about his love of cars. He seemed to know what he was talking about. Before I realized what I was doing we were shaking hands and I was welcoming him to the business. Was I bamboozled? Was I charmed? I dunno. I just liked him and he's proven to be a great worker. Maybe we needed his likeable personality. His rapport gets people through the door. See? He's influencing me. Yo, Jim. Tell these clients where you were before you showed up here."

         Jim looked back over his shoulder and sighed.

         "I can do that. A few months ago I was an English major at university. I spent most of my time writing poetry. It doesn't pay the bills. I wanted to dirty my hands with something other than ink. I decided to try my hand at being a car jockey and not a word jockey. You know, different construction. Not lines of poetry, but crown lines. Not sentence structure, but structural integrity. Now I blend paint, not nuance. I'm no longer a writer, but a wreck righter . Are you ready to manage the damage?"          1122 words

         Take Your Poet to Work Day