A Proud Day For Exit133 (23. March 2007, 09:03 by Derek Young) ~ Hey! That's Mine.

A few days ago, on my downtown travels, I met a man. He seemed eager to talk to me as he stepped out of the shadows. I could have felt threatened but he seemed harmless enough.

“Pssst!” he said.

“Can I help you?” I answered, stopping.

“The question is can I help you. I’ll be honest, sir, I don’t have much to my name. But my grandfather died yesterday and he left me this.” At this point the man held up a wrinkled brown envelope.

Rather trustingly, I thought, the man handed me the envelope. It had been slit open at the top and I gingerly pulled out a yellowed sheet of paper that at the top read DEED OF TRUST.

I scanned it quickly and looked back at the man in surprise. “Is this for real?”

He nodded vigorously. “My grandfather left it to me. I just picked it up today.”

“I’m speechless.”

“The thing is, I’d like to take advantage of this, but I wouldn’t even know where to begin. This is way beyond the scope of anything I know how to handle and I’ve been thinking that maybe it makes more sense to sell the deed to someone else than deal with trying to manage the thing on my own. I’m a simple man with simple tastes and this is just too much for me.”

I looked at the document again and saw that it wasn’t clear. “Do you know if this is for the new Narrows Bridge or the old one, sir?”

“It’s a deed for the new Narrows Bridge. My grandfather left me both, but I sold the other bridge this morning. I was thinking about holding on to it, but … you know, I just couldn’t pass up the twenty bucks.”

“Twenty bucks! That’s all your want for the new bridge?”

The man must have seen the glimmer in my eye. “Oh, no no, $20 was the price for the old bridge. That’s 50 years old and in need of a lot of work. The new bridge, that comes with all the features. New lanes, good tires, and any color you want as long as its drab concrete. Plus a light display like you wouldn’t believe. She’s the prettiest thing this side of Vegas come dusk.”

“So how much for the bridge?”

“Well, you seem like a pretty reasonable fellow. I’d probably let it go for $200.”

“That seems like a lot.”

“Bear in mind you’ll start collecting tolls on it by the end of the year, so you should get that money back pretty quick.”

“Sir, you have a deal. I’ll buy your bridge,” I told him, and cut him a check there on the spot.

Well … a few days have passed since then and I’ve been feeling proud of myself. Some guys just fall into success but me—I made my own luck with a shrewd investment. I’ve visited the bridge site a few times to check in on the progress of construction. It sounds like they are a couple months behind, but I’m not too worried. They didn’t recognize me as the new owner, but the paperwork should take only a few more days to go through, I’d guess.

I’d be feeling a lot better too if I hadn’t caught sight of the morning Tribune. It was then that I knew I’d been conned. Part of my bridge is in Idaho!

The nerve of that guy! To sell me a bridge that’s not even in one piece! And the other piece is trapped in another state. No wonder he let it go for such a screaming deal, I realized.

I have half a mind to call up the DOT right now and give them an earful about how they’ve handled this.

“Just what do you think you’re doing with my bridge?”

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