Then we were in a car. Not my old beat-up car, but a red sports car, maybe a Lamborghini. She was driving up the Coast Highway like she was in a big hurry to get somewhere, or maybe to get away from some-thing, or somebody. I remember wondering if she had a husband --one who might be tailing us. I put my hand inside my jacket to make sure I had my trusty friend with me. Damn, it was gone! All I could come up with was my calculator.

A throaty, sexy voice spoke beside me. "Looking for something,Mr. Green?" She laughed, in that same throaty, sexy voice. "Don't worry," she said. "It's not lost. I just borrowed it, that's all." Suddenly, without slowing down, she made a left turn, and I was thrown hard against her. I realized I didn't have my seat belt on, and she didn't either. That's when I knew this broad was nuts...she could have gotten one hell of a real bad ticket for driving without a seat belt.

She was pulling the car to a stop, and then I saw that she had my gun in her hand, pointed right at me. She looked real serious now,but her voice was still throaty and sexy. "Okay, Mr. Green, let's go." I looked around and realized with a shock that we were parked in front of the Del Mar townhouse that had just come on the market. I hadn't even had a chance to put a sign up on the lawn. The gun was prodding me in the back, and I quickly got out of the car.

She got out behind me, and I turned my head slightly to look back at her. Only she wasn't there any more. Instead, I saw a tall man with short black hair. The long blonde wig was lying on the car seat. The only thing about her -- I mean his -- face that I recognized now was the false eyelashes and the glossy red lipstick, both of which looked pretty damned silly on him. The bare shoulders still looked good, though, I had to admit.

My memory was getting hazy again. I had a couple of quick flashes -- getting the key out of the lockbox, the gun in my back as I opened the door and let the guy in. The house was vacant, fortunately. He turned on the lights and told me to sit down and shut up. He was still holding my gun, so I followed instructions. Besides, I was getting sleepier by the minute...

And the next thing I knew, I woke up here in the real estate office, with that God-awful banging going on. I knew I had to find out what it was, so I opened both eyes this time. The light hit me again, and this time I saw that it was coming through the window, and it was the sun. I pulled myself to my feet, the taste of stale root beer in my mouth. Now I could identify the banging. Somebody was knocking on the door. I straightened my rumpled clothes as much as possible and ran a hand through my hair. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was barely eight o'clock, and Sunday morning at that. It couldn't be a customer at this hour.

He looked a lot better with his face washed, wearing a sharp Armani jacket and slacks. I stepped back when I saw the gun in his hand, and he laughed, in that throaty, sexy voice. "Here, Mr. Green,you can have your gun back now," he said. I took it, trying to decide whether I should make a citizen's arrest and charge him with kidnapping. He didn't seem concerned, though. He sat down and gestured toward my desk. "Aren't you going to sit down?" he asked.

I sat and stared at him, still confused and trying to remember what else had happened the night before. Swallowing my pride, I started to ask him about it, but he was busy writing in his checkbook. "Will five thousand cover the deposit?" he asked. Suddenly, then, everything fell into place for me. I knew I had a silly smile on my face as I said, "The townhouse! How did you know...I mean, there wasn't even a sign on it yet." He laughed heartily, no longer sounding throaty and sexy, just amused. "Did you forget that you previewed it on your web site?"

I had forgotten, actually. I hadn't been on the internet for long. I looked at him, still not getting it. "But why...I mean, why didn't you just come into the office and ask to see it?" He shrugged. "I didn't want to take a chance that somebody else would get to you first. And I'd heard a little about your reputation. With five kids, most of them daughters, you're a sucker for a woman in trouble, especially good- looking blonde ones." I shook my head. "But how did you know..." He laughed again. "I talked to the man you used to work for at the hotel. You know, that place where you used to be a dick."  I bit back my anger, thinking about the check he had just written.  "I followed you last night," he explained, "and gave the bartender a little tip to put something extra in your root beer. The rest was easy."

And the rest was easy. I made the sale, he got the house he wanted, and moved in with his beautiful blonde wife. And oh yeah -- she has a throaty, sexy voice, too.

So that house is gone, but don't be discouraged, there are others available. I'll be glad to show them to you, either in person or on the internet. None of those tedious forms to fill out, just use our e-mail address and tell us what you want. We'll respond to you quickly-- it's a matter of pride with us, as we're a family business.

You sellers now see what I'll go through to sell your property. Let us know your needs, then come for a visit. We'll be happy to meet you and show you around. Just don't try to buy me a root beer, though...