It's confirmed: I'm in.

The first time I met with them, they just wanted to reimburse me for mileage. For the hassle of driving to downtown. They shook my hand at the end of the night. We performed cheeseball high-fives in the glow of the street light outside Chef’s condo.

Tonight, we met at the restaurant. We sat in an old ballroom and I presented my marketing plan. They sat there with sawdust on their jeans. Chef even went as far as to apologize for how bad he smelled. They gawked at me when I spoke of events and next steps, yadda yadda. My point is: Listen, they are putting everything they’ve got into this place.

I like it.

They spoke of girls they are dating. They told bad stories and even worse jokes. Nothing was politically correct and perhaps they were surprised that I didn’t care. They told dirty jokes and waited for me to cringe. Nope. This time, at the end of the night, they hugged me goodbye and gave me kisses on the cheek. Casual “See you soon’s” and “let’s grab a drink next week”.

And one of them walked me to my car, among the dirty and filth that is sometimes (oh, just sometimes!) downtown Los Angeles. And—again---he said they want to reimburse me for my mileage. Sure. But now they want to pay me. Every single day. And commission. Essentially, a retainer fee.

My first marketing freelance client!

I was on such Cloud 9 that I continued to smile even as I heard the “thud” sound as I bumped into the car that was parallel parked behind me.

Eh, that can’t upset me tonight.