A Quick Trip to Norman

A few years ago I made a drive up to Oklahoma City to try and close a business deal. Apparently, they are in short supply of cheap vodka up there and I was trying to help some people set up some kind of distribution channel to move more vodka into Oklahoma. It seems that no matter how much cheap vodka is shipped into Oklahoma it just flies off the shelves. The good stuff doesn’t sell, but the demand for the cheap stuff is off the charts.

After the meeting, I decided to drive down to Norman to see the Oklahoma University campus. It was a particularly long drive on an unpaved road and somehow some red dirt got into my transmission fluid and completely tore up my transmission. I didn’t want to hassle with getting my transmission rebuilt or getting a new transmission up there in Oklahoma, so I called a couple of auto salvage yards in the area. I had a few different guys from these auto salvage yards show up in tow trucks and they started bidding on my car. I ended up selling it for more than it was worth to one of those guys. He was nice enough to give me a ride to Big Red Motors so I could pick out a new car.

I knew what kind of car I wanted and immediately started haggling with the salesman, who introduced himself as Big Deer Running. This dude was pretty annoying, so I just bypassed him and went straight into the sales manager’s office. After introducing himself as Possum Burrowing, we got down to negotiating. I’ll have to admit, I wasn’t in the best position to negotiate since I had been dropped off at the dealership by a tow truck. However, there were so many interruptions, the sales manager had a hard time concentrating on the negotiations.

His office looked like a shrine to Oklahoma football. There were signed posters of Brian Bozworth, Dusty Dvoracek, Howard Schnellenberger, John Blake and Charles Thompson. There were pictures of current OU football players at the dealership. There was a picture of an older woman with her hand down Jamelle Holieway’s pants. There was a gun signed by Barry Switzer.

The first interruption in our negotiations was a phone call. I could only hear one side of the conversation, but Possum Burrowing said the following: “Hey, Bob, that was a great win over Texas…How many cars do you need?…….Sure, I’ll have Flowing Stream drop them by this afternoon….Do you need some more for recruiting?….Okay, I’ll see you later.”

Possum Burrowing hung up the phone and turned his attention back to me. Almost immediately a young man just walked in the office and said, “Possum, I need my paychecks for the last two weeks. I didn’t come in last week to get my paycheck.”

Possum Burrowing opened up a drawer and pulled out two paychecks. “I put a little extra in there for you this week. Keep up the good work, Rhett.” The young man took the checks and left without saying another word.

Possum Burrowing kind of changed things up during the negotiations and tried to sell me some cars that were damaged by a meth lab next door exploding. He said he had about ten cars that had sustained some minor body damage, but they had all been repainted and repaired. He said he could cut me a deal but I told him I wasn’t interested. He finally began focusing on the sale. After completing the sale and signing a bunch of papers, Possum Burrowing said he didn’t have the car on the lot at that moment. Someone named Adrian was driving it, but that he’d trade out another car to Adrian and have it back on the lot within an hour.

I told him I’d wanted to ride over and look around the campus. He said I could do him a favor and take a car over to Bob Stoops. So, I got to drive a Corvette over to campus, following some dude named Flowing Stream who was driving an identical car.

Flowing Stream told me he’d give me a call when he located my car. In the interim, I walked around the campus. I needed to take a piss so I walked in a building that looked like one of the main buildings on campus. Inside, it was simply some kind of casino. I asked someone that worked there how a college campus could have a casino operating right out in the open, and he answered, “Casino legal on reservation. How. Would you like a cheap vodka?”

After playing a few hands of blackjack, my phone rang and Flowing Stream told me he had my car. I went back out and got my keys and took off heading south to Texas. I was happy to leave the land of reservation gambling and auto salvage yards.

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