{"id":341,"date":"2009-03-16T06:00:30","date_gmt":"2009-03-16T11:00:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.greatsociety.org\/?p=341"},"modified":"2018-10-31T08:50:27","modified_gmt":"2018-10-31T12:50:27","slug":"recap-and-chapter-7-tolerable-pricks","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/?p=341","title":{"rendered":"Recap and Chapter 7: Tolerable Pricks"},"content":{"rendered":"

Paul Peter Hinckley, our protagonist, is an over-educated tax preparation man in his fifties who has just watched his father, an esteemed and popular attorney in New Orleans, die on the seventh green of the Audubon Golf Course.\u00a0 In the midst of awkwardly coping with his grief and his family\u2019s apparent lack of the appropriate reactions, he has reunited with an old friend, a not-so-esteemed and infamous attorney named Remo MacQuincy, whose firm has been reduced through the ill will and rumors of old enemies to a staff of a few wide-eyed recent graduates from Tulane Law School.\u00a0 Remo is suffering from unpopularity, he feels, because he was the first and only private attorney to sue the federal government for their role in the damages sustained during Hurricane Katrina.\u00a0 Unfortunately, many of the suitors in his class action lawsuit are \u201cimpatient\u201d black families who have ponied up an undisclosed \u201csmall, administrative fee\u201d to Remo to get the ball rolling and, seeing no progress or even the beginnings of a trial, have begun to demand their money back.\u00a0 Feeling cornered and threatened, Remo has asked Paul if he can hide out at his house through hurricane season for protection.<\/em><\/p>\n

All of this, of course, is unknown to Liza Rosenstein, Paul\u2019s longtime girlfriend who is making plans of her own on how to spend the large inheritance Paul is about to receive from his father\u2019s estate and who has been advised by a friend to seek out a \u201cDiscretionary Consultant\u201d to peer into Paul\u2019s affairs to make sure he is true Uptown Husband material.\u00a0 Paul\u2019s older brothers, Robert, a real estate mogul, and Joseph, a construction company executive, have also expressed their displeasure at Paul\u2019s recent behavior, but are also unaware of the pact he has made with Remo, whom they consider \u201cdead unbalanced.\u201d\u00a0 The only family member Paul seems to have avoided irritating is his teenage niece, Kendra, the daughter of his globe-trotting sister, Noel.<\/em><\/p>\n

As we rejoin our story, Paul and Remo have just finished a morning of drinking and banging out the details of their covert co-inhabitance.\u00a0 Paul has just remembered that he is supposed to drive his sister\u2019s stateside BMW to the airport and leave it in short-term parking for when she returns for their father\u2019s funeral.\u00a0 He has enlisted Remo to help him, but as soon as they split up into two cars, Remo roars off like a bandit, cathartically racing the Beamer far ahead of Paul.\u00a0 <\/em><\/p>\n

Things, as they say, are about to get complicated.<\/em><\/p>\n

Paul wove through the two gray lanes of Airline Highway around the cars that seemed to be in no particular hurry to get where they were going.\u00a0 He kept mistaking other black sports coupes for his sister\u2019s BMW, and the repeated cycle of apprehension and disappointment were beginning to strain his nerves.\u00a0 Finally he arrived at the airport and hoped he would find Remo somewhere along the loop, waiting patiently for his arrival.\u00a0 He made two aggravating circuits before deciding to try the parking garage.\u00a0 He punched the button for a ticket and started a slow crawl through the levels, his eyes still adjusting to the dark grayness that was only partly penetrated by the bright August sun outside.<\/p>\n

On the third level in the back corner he found the car and his friend.<\/p>\n

The BMW squatted almost parallel to the waist high concrete ledge, taking up three parking spaces between two other compact cars.\u00a0 Remo stood behind the car looking grim.\u00a0 Paul pulled into a space opposite the scene and hopped out.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis car has horrible handling for a German.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe back is way too heavy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul jogged over and scooted around the car.\u00a0 The entire back left corner was caved in, glass shards and snapped pieces of the body rattled on the ground.\u00a0 The turning indicator bulb hung on its thin wires like an eye out of its socket.\u00a0 The back wheel tilted inward into the wheel housing, knocked completely off balance.\u00a0 The front door had a large gouge in it where Remo had apparently misjudged the distance between it and the wall when he kicked it open.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoly crap!\u201d\u00a0 Paul said.\u00a0 \u201cI hadn\u2019t forgotten about your penchant for stunt parking, but I thought you\u2019d have outgrown it by now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPaul, everything\u2019s going to be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is outrageous!\u00a0 What\u2019s Noel going to say?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNoel?\u00a0 She won\u2019t have to know.\u00a0 I know a good body man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow fast were you going?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s irrelevant.\u00a0 Let me see your cell phone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhoa, whoa.\u00a0 Let\u2019s just think this through, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve already done the thinking for us, Paul.\u00a0 We get the car out of here, leave word for Noel that she can borrow your car, then you go downstairs and get a rental.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u00a0 She\u2019s going to be some ticked off.\u00a0 She\u2019s going to want to know what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know your sister, Paul.\u00a0 She\u2019s going to want to see this thing through as quickly as possible, do what she needs to, then fly out on the next available bird.\u00a0 She won\u2019t have time to worry about the car.\u00a0 And if she asks, tell her you took it to a shop because it felt, I don\u2019t know, wonky.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou think she\u2019ll believe that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s the truth.\u00a0 I could feel it under my foot the minute we left her driveway.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t performing up to spec.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if we just got it turned around and left it parked?\u00a0 She might think someone in the garage backed into it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s too many variables in that proposition.\u00a0 Look, kid, I\u2019ve been in sticky situations before, and my hard-earned experience tells me that the more things you can keep in your corner the better.\u00a0 The door won\u2019t latch anyway and it\u2019d be exposed to grand theft.\u00a0 Give me your phone.\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul didn\u2019t know what to think.\u00a0 The failure on Remo\u2019s part to admit to any fault left the guilt and responsibility floating, and he could feel it start to seep into his pores.\u00a0 He felt childish and embarrassed for the both of them, but Remo was right.\u00a0 Anything left up to chance now might complicate things.\u00a0 He handed over the phone.\u00a0 Remo opened it and dialed.<\/p>\n

\u201cJulian?\u201d he asked.\u00a0 \u201cYeah, MacQuincy.\u00a0 Listen\u2026\u201d He put his free fist on his hip and walked off toward a corner of the garage, probably seeking a better signal.<\/p>\n

Paul decided to try and make the car a little less conspicuous.\u00a0 He slid into the driver\u2019s seat and started the car.\u00a0 The door indeed was knocked slightly askew on its hinges and the latching mechanism didn\u2019t line up with the frame, and wouldn\u2019t even sit loose in its place.\u00a0 He pulled it closed a half dozen times, but each time the door swung and floated fully open again.\u00a0 Paul tried to lower the window, but the motor started to grind when it got halfway down.\u00a0 Something jarred loose inside blocked the pane\u2019s track, so he held the door closed by scooting over in the seat, sticking his arm out, and holding the window under his armpit.\u00a0 In this position he could still reach the pedals, but tentatively at best.\u00a0 He started to sweat.<\/p>\n

He pushed down the clutch and slid the shifter into reverse.\u00a0 His head swiveled in both directions, but he could only guess at how much distance he had behind him.\u00a0 He put his left foot over the brake, not trusting his ability to switch back and forth with only his right, and began to inch backwards.\u00a0 Once he felt he\u2019d reached his invisible limit, he yanked the steering wheel hard to the right, popped the car back into first, and let the engine pull itself forward slowly until he was about an inch from the sedan in front of him.\u00a0 He\u2019d turned the car about two degrees.<\/p>\n

\u201cJeesum.\u201d<\/p>\n

He began a seventeen-point turn inside the small space, feeling the V8 engine starting to get annoyed at such feeble maneuvers, moving back and forth six inches at a time and rotating in embarrassing increments.<\/p>\n

Halfway through the process, Paul\u2019s irritation and impatience got the better of him.\u00a0 He tried to twist all the way around in his seat to see exactly how much room was back there and maybe risk another foot and a half backing up, but kept the pressure necessary to keep the door closed under his arm.\u00a0 The torsion popped his shoulder out of its socket.\u00a0 He turned forward again reflexively and it slid right back into place, but the rigid signals of pain kept racing outward down his arm and up his neck.\u00a0 He howled, somehow lifted his arm, and let the door float away, then rolled out of the car onto his knees.\u00a0 He held his left arm tight to his side with his other hand and stared at the ground.<\/p>\n

Paul could smell his own sweat tinged with light beer and horseradish.\u00a0 He wanted desperately to be someplace cool and friendly, watching a ballgame, leaving the strenuous activity and potential for injury up to the professionals.<\/p>\n

Remo came back, whistling, and leaned over with his palms on the hood.\u00a0 \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI just twisted my shoulder in the process of turning the car around.\u00a0 The day is not going like I planned.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShit, kid, my boys can do that for us when they come to tow it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGuess I was worried about appearances.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll get some ice in the airport.\u00a0 Come on.\u00a0 Is there anything in the car we need to take with us?\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul rolled on leg and got a foot on the ground.\u00a0 \u201cNo.\u00a0 Noel keeps it completely clean.\u00a0 Just check the glove box and make sure there\u2019s no cash.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you think I did as soon as I got in the car?\u00a0 Like I said: I know your sister.\u201d Remo winked and Paul managed to twist half of his grimace into a smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood ol\u2019 Remo.\u00a0 What\u2019d you say once? \u2018The secret to being a tolerable prick is not being afraid to occasionally admit that you are one.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid I say that?\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul huffed out of the grinning half of his mouth.\u00a0 \u201cYou or some other prick.\u201d<\/p>\n

Remo reared back and let his fists fall against the hood and cackled.<\/p>\n

*\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 *\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 *<\/p>\n

At the rental counter, Paul held a Diet Coke against his shoulder and signed the forms left-handed.\u00a0 He took the keys from the clerk.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know where the lot is?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m local, honey.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, you\u2019re all set then.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOne more thing.\u00a0 Where do I hire one of those guys that waits at the gate and holds up a sign with someone\u2019s name on it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSir?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy sister is arriving here later tonight, and I\u2019d like her to be met by someone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs your sister a minor?\u00a0 Because the airport has a program for that.\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m afraid not.\u00a0 She\u2019s a mature woman who is used to a certain standard of living.\u00a0 So I need one of the guys.\u00a0 The sign should read \u2018Hinckley.\u2019\u00a0 That\u2019s with a \u2018c\u2019 before the \u2018k\u2019, and an \u2018e\u2019 before the\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSir, those are professional drivers.\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul smiled.\u00a0 \u201cI should hope so.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe kind that come with a hired car or limo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s a different counter?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not a service we provide.\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul pursed his lips.\u00a0 \u201cSo I can\u2019t hire just the guy with the sign?\u00a0 Anywhere?\u201d<\/p>\n

The clerk tapped her fingernails on her side of the counter.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m afraid not, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

He knocked the key fob on the counter a few times and looked the clerk over.\u00a0 \u201cMaybe your agency could spare someone for a few hours\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s unlikely.\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul nodded and walked back to join Remo who was staring at a large LCD screen listing arrivals and departures.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhatever happened to customer service?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHah.\u00a0 Customer service isn\u2019t expandable.\u00a0 Look, they got airports in all these bumfuck towns.\u00a0 There\u2019s no money leftover in the corporate structure for pleasant attitudes.\u00a0 Why would anyone want to go to Akron?\u201d<\/p>\n

They stepped outside along with a dozen others who had recently disembarked into the pickup area.\u00a0 Overhead cars clacked along the lanes for drop-offs, and down here with the trapped exhaust of all the taxis, family cars, and hotel shuttles felt like being underneath an interstate overpass, the adolescent graffiti replaced by wraparound ads for local tourist traps.\u00a0 Remo removed his handkerchief and held it over his nose and mouth.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, there\u2019s our shuttle,\u201d Paul said.<\/p>\n

They stepped up into the chilled cabin and sat on the long bench that ran down the side opposite the luggage rack.\u00a0 A few minutes passed by.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, are we going or not,\u201d Remo called out to the driver.<\/p>\n

\u201cI gotta wait for at least five.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFuel costs, my man.\u00a0 Do less with more.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, get out there and beat the grass.\u201d<\/p>\n

The driver leaned across and yelled out the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cTwo mo\u2019, two mo\u2019! Avis, Avis, Avis!\u00a0 You, right there, you look lost.\u00a0 Welcome to the Big Easy.\u00a0 You driving Avis, ma\u2019am?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is just what I was saying,\u201d Paul said.\u00a0 \u201cRidiculous.\u201d<\/p>\n

An older couple made it on board and sat right behind the driver. \u00a0They unfolded their new map of the city and started to ask him questions.\u00a0 After awhile Remo yelled again.\u00a0 \u201cI could\u2019ve walked there by now!\u201d<\/p>\n

The driver turned around and shot back a smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cAw, I would\u2019ve passed you up lying on the shoulder, big man.\u00a0 Heatstroke.\u00a0 Just enjoy the AC.\u00a0 We\u2019ll get where you\u2019re goin\u2019.\u00a0 Hey, don\u2019t I know you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably not.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe I seen you in the paper.\u00a0 One mo\u2019, one mo\u2019!\u00a0 All aboard for Avis.\u201d<\/p>\n

Finally another gentleman clasped the pole and pulled himself into the shuttle. \u00a0The driver immediately closed the doors and took off with a lurch.\u00a0 The man awkwardly stepped down the aisle against the rocking rhythm of the cabin, placed his bag on the rack, and sat down in the back.\u00a0 Both Remo and Paul\u2019s eyes followed him.\u00a0 He took off his fedora and removed his sunglasses then finally noticed their turned faces.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, my fucking hell<\/em>,\u201d he said.\u00a0 \u201cIs that you, MacQuincy?\u00a0 You look like a bloated toad.\u201d<\/p>\n

Remo crossed his arms.\u00a0 \u201cMurchison.\u00a0 What brings this big fish back to the little pond?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOffshore drilling.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPaul, this is Henry Murchison.\u00a0 A son-of-a-bitch lobbyist.\u00a0 Though, that term\u2019s kind of redundant, now that I think about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you, MacQuincy?\u00a0 Still poking your nose under the government\u2019s skirt?\u00a0 You haven\u2019t tired of having it slapped away?\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul\u2019s eagerness to introduce himself quickly subsided.\u00a0 He opened the can of Diet Coke and sipped at it.<\/p>\n

\u201cAs opposed to just flipping the old whore over and working the other holes like you?\u00a0 If I\u2019d known I\u2019d run into you, I\u2019d have packed my baseball bat.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf I remember correctly, you always had a sort of pansy swing.\u00a0 Everything landed infield.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, you\u2019ve already done enough illegitimate harm to my reputation, so let\u2019s leave out the old high school sports comparisons, all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIllegitimate?\u00a0 I\u2019ve never needed to exaggerate the truth about you, MacQuincy.\u00a0 Your deeds speak for themselves.\u00a0 I\u2019ve just reiterated for those who didn\u2019t hear the first time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re an eager liar, an enthusiastic bearer of false witness, and God help me, I\u2019ll throw you out the doors of this shuttle if you say one more word to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Both men turned away and the rattling of the chassis filled the gap of their silence.\u00a0 Paul looked to his right.\u00a0 The driver and the other couple seemed not to have heard anything.\u00a0 They were still engrossed in their discussion of inauthentic hotspots.\u00a0 He leaned in to Remo\u2019s ear.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho is this guy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cForget him.\u00a0 We\u2019re almost there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know, MacQuincy, I didn\u2019t always hate you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust stow it, Henry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe disliked your demeanor, maybe broke away early whenever we met, sure.\u00a0 But I didn\u2019t start to actively hate you until 1985.\u00a0 Does your friend know this story?\u201d<\/p>\n

Remo stared straight ahead, his teeth clenching and unclenching, rippling his jowls.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, friend, you may know Remo well or maybe not so well, but at the least you\u2019re aware of his flagrant opportunism.\u00a0 It\u2019s something he\u2019s never been able to hide very well.\u00a0 One Friday in 1985 some colleagues of mine from the firm I worked for at the time were in Acme slurping down oysters and chewing the fat.\u00a0 These were some real mules, you know, straining the big rumor millstone forward, trading stories like stocks, each man the more valuable for the strength of his facts.\u00a0 Eventually one minion lets slip to another that I am leaving the following morning for New York to lay down in stone a deal making me the local legal consultant for a very large hotel group making their first foray into the city.\u00a0 Every man under me would\u2019ve had a part in a small killing, so they could be expected to brag.\u00a0 But these men chose to brag in great detail, unfortunately, and do you know who was sitting two tables over with his well-trained ear and probably chewing through half his weight in fried shrimp?\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, do you know anyone of the type who might immediately slip out of a restaurant, call a cab, race to the airport, take the last flight to New York of the afternoon in such haste that he has to buy new clothes once he arrives, then shows up at the offices of the very same large hotel group purporting to be the man from the firm they were expecting?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI never said I was from your<\/em> firm.\u00a0 I said I was from \u2018the firm that will be representing your interests.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHardly a lie, then, was it, MacQuincy?\u00a0 But, tell me, friend, what kind of man walks around with pre-made, catch-all contracts in his briefcase?\u00a0 What kind of attorney has two sets of business cards, one proudly listing the name of his firm and the other, well, I suppose blank space can be seen as a sort of modesty, eh?\u00a0 Or it would if that space surrounded the name of any other man.\u00a0 What kind of man thinks it wise to cherry pick his colleagues\u2019 clients and expects to be rewarded for no hard work of his own?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf they\u2019d really wanted you<\/em>, then I\u2019d have faced a little more resistance on their part.\u00a0 Or they\u2019d have tried to disengage after they found out.\u00a0 But they seemed happy enough with the services I provided.\u201d<\/p>\n

Murchison looked out his window as the shuttled pulled into the lot.\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019re a walking insult to proper business, MacQuincy.\u00a0 You deserve everything that\u2019s coming to you.\u201d\u00a0 He stood and retrieved his bag.\u00a0 Remo glared up at the back of his head, rolling his tongue from side to side between his molars.\u00a0 Paul somehow understood that they would have to remain seated until the other man was down the aisle and out of view.<\/p>\n

When they reached their assigned car, a bland white Camry from an indeterminate year, Paul finally spoke up.\u00a0 \u201cI thought you were gonna deck him.\u00a0 Maybe you should have.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe man\u2019s a snake, kid.\u00a0 He hides his venom in the rules.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRemo\u2026is that story true?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course it\u2019s true.\u00a0 It was a con, but my heart was in the right place.\u00a0 Gigolos like him, they don\u2019t get to be the gatekeepers into my city.\u00a0 Now get in the car.\u00a0 We\u2019ve got to retrieve my files.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Paul Peter Hinckley, our protagonist, is an over-educated tax preparation man in his fifties who has just watched his father, an esteemed and popular attorney in New Orleans, die on the seventh green of the Audubon Golf Course.\u00a0 In the …<\/p>\n

Recap and Chapter 7: Tolerable Pricks<\/span> Read More »<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[57],"tags":[68,127],"class_list":["post-341","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-cass","tag-cassander","tag-writing"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/341","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=341"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/341\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":945,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/341\/revisions\/945"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=341"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=341"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=341"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}