April 10, 2008
So Johnny Lee shows up at
my house last night. So
much for going to visit
him.
Anyway, it turns out
there was an art auction
in North Carolina he was
heading to. He wanted to
take me and James, but
Jameses lame ass had to
work, so it ended up me
and Mr.
"Look-at-me-I'm-buying-ar
t-for-my-restaurant-becau
se-I'm-so-successful"
leaving at 4 A.M. for the
auction.
15 minutes later, we are
looking at a deer in the
middle of the road with
no head in front of the
lodge.
The head, being attached
to Johnny Lee's grill by
the antlers, was still
kinda spasming. I guess
the nerves were still
reacting or something.
Either way, we could tell
it was gonna be one of
those days.
So after cleaning up the
mess, and falling down
one of the slopes when I
was dragging the body
into the woods, we were
on our way again. John
was wearing his usual: a
stained white undershirt,
black pants, and
sneakers. I was wearing
am element t-shirt which
was too small because i
bought it like 4 years
ago (I wear the same
cloths for 10 years
straight, shut up.) some
blue jeans with humongous
holes in the bottom from
walking like 30 miles in
one day in them, and my
underarmor hat, which has
a slight major hole in it
from 4th of July weekend.
We are in no way dressed
to go to an art auction
Oh yeah, John's jeep is
covered in deer blood.
Well, the 5 hour drive
only turned out to be a
nice and short 7 hours,
because John can navigate
about as well as a blind
retard. When we do
finally find the house
where the auction is
happening, John decides
to check his GPS, just to
make sure he are that the
right house.
This is because the
previous 3 houses we were
at were filled with crazy
rich rednecks (trust me,
I didn't know they
existed either) that
didn't know where the
auction was, but didn't
waste a minute inviting
us to stay for the night
in their cellar. In the
two second pause that
consisted of Johnny Lee
looking at the screen,
some asshole in a red
Corvette pulled up behind
us and honked his bitch
ass horn at us.
Then, before we even had
a chance to move, he
pulled around us, stuck
his pale face with
pointed nose out the
window and yelled,
"Learn to fucking drive,
you Georgia hicks!".
Then, he drove up the
driveway, to the house in
question.
John lost it. "Who the
fuck is that guy. I'd
fucking kick his ass if I
knew he probably didn't
have 6 body guards in the
backseat of his car,
buttfucking each other
until he calls for help."
I was pretty pissed to,
but I didn't react as
quickly. You see, while
Johnny boy over there
probably could and would
kick his ass, all that
would do would be to give
that prick a reason to
sure is or some shit like
that, and make him even
more of an asshole.I on
the other hand, knew
exactly how to deal with
him; for I too, am an
asshole.
John pulled up and went
to park the jeep when I
saw the pointed nosed
asshole, or PNA for
short, walk into the
house. I jumped out of
the jeep without waiting
for john to slow down and
followed him inside.
Inside, he went straight
for the gallery, where he
art being auctioned off
was placed. In his hand
are two things, a
notepad, and a packet of
papers, about 5 of them,
with pictures of
paintings on them. He
walked around a bit,
looking form piece to
piece, only half-way
interested. Eventually,
he looked down at the
packet, with the
paintings on them, all of
which I had noticed were
n the gallery. More or
less, he was looking for
specific ones he wanted
to buy.
As he stopped in front of
the paintings he wanted,
he wrote down their
number on his notepad. He
obviously wasn't that
smart if he couldn't'
remember 5 numbers.
If you've never been to
an auction, here is how
it usually works. Before
the auction ever begins,
the objects of interest
are assigned a number,
and put on display, that
way, the buyers can get a
good idea of what they
are interested in, and
can easily identify it on
stage, or purchase it for
a high price before the
auction begin to ensure
that it will be their's.
Anyway, every time he
stopped, I used my phone
to take a picture of him
in front of every
painting he stopped at,
then when he walked away,
I went behind him and
also wrote down the
numbers of the art he
wanted. During this time,
he was talking to a man
he had just met, bragging
how he was getting the
art his wife-to-be picked
out, and if he got all of
the paintings, he get
laid every night for the
rest of the week.
"O RLY?" Is all I could
think.
One hour (he really
sucked at identifying
paintings) and 6
paintings later, we left
the gallery. I headed
straight to the private
owner of the paintings.
"Excuse me sir, but I was
wondering if any of these
were available for
pre-sale?" I showed him
the numbers and the
pictures.
"Uhm....yes, all of them
except for number B-12.
That one I'm afraid is to
be auctioned off as
normally."
"Excellent. Excuse me for
one second." I walked
quickly away, looking for
Johnny Lee. He was
talking to some woman
(not that bad looking
either) in a red dress. I
grabbed his arm and
pulled him away, asking
her to excuse him for one
second.
"Look at this." I showed
him the pictures, and
explained they were all
available for pre-sale.
"Yeah....and I care why.
And who is that guy?" He
didn't understand.
"Maybe you'd recognize
that big nose of his
better if it was in a red
corvette."
His face lit up. After 45
minutes of negotiating,
with the owner, we walked
out the door with all of
the paintings, except for
B-12, which i had my own
plan for securing.
When the auction began, I
brought Johnny Lee, and
his new lady friend who
had forgotten about her
date to sit a few rows
behind the PNA. I then
whispered to John to bid
in number B-12 no matter
how high it got, and then
slipped away, say I
wanted something to
drink.
Most of the people there
were snobby assholes, and
didn't give a fuck about
the drinking age, so I
poured myself a large
glass of red wine. I
wasn't going to drink it.
I stood by the liquor
table until B-12 came
onto the floor. PNA was
the first to place a bid,
and it was a high one for
starter. John looked at
me questioningly. I just
gave him a nod and
waited. John took up the
bid, adding on another
100. this went back in
forth for a few seconds.
Right when it looked like
Johnny was about to drop
out, I made my way back
to the seats. I started
to shuffle down PNA's
row, until I got to him,
at which point I
"tripped", spilling red
wine all over his white
suit. Yeah, I know, who
the hell wears a white
suit? Anyway, he was so
pissed that the "Georgia
Hick" ruined his suit,
that he forgot about the
action for about 7
seconds, which is four
second too long, and
enough for Johnny to win
the bid.
Don't ever fucking cut me
off.
Im Jeff Alan Whatly bitches.
I'm GRaduating from Riverside in a few weeks, and then Im Enlisting into the Active Army.
I like Metal Music, noddles, Lost, and House.
Piano Music has always Annoyed me, as well as rednecks.
Im Libral, but not democratic. I voted for obama, and I plan to vote for him again.
If you wanna know anyting else, just ask.