Rick's New Charm

A vintage camel-hair pea coat most exquisite in nature laid slightly soiled in the alley behind a dry cleaners. It sat there for days unclaimed, with less and less hope of being retrieved by the original owner...
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'Who was the original owner?' Rick pondered as he vigorously scrubbed the stains out of his new coat. He'd found it in the alley on his way back from Ye Olde Smoke Shoppe, and coincidentally a little thick spit was all he needed to get the thing back into shape.

'Must've been important.'

He took a break from scrubbing momentarily and sat back against his rust colored love seat admiring the coat. A glint of sunlight pierced through bent blinds and caught the cracked full length mirror in the corner of the apartment. Rick stood up, grabbed the coat and walked over to the mirror, slipping his thin arms into the sleeves as he went. He stared at his grimy reflection while fastening the buttons, and a smile emerged revealing stained teeth. It fit!

'Wonder how much it's worth.' He couldn't wait to wear it out the next day and hoped it would bring him luck in his perpetual quest for odd jobs.

The next morning, Rick ate some old herring from the refrigerator, picked his teeth with an old tooth pick, put on the shoes and the pea coat and left his apartment. He went to visit the travel agency down the street where he'd once landed a short term position putting names into a computer. They hadn't offered anything since. But today would be different, and he knew it.

To begin with, the clerk, who he knew on a first name basis, wasn't so terse. She asked him how he was doing, she smiled even! The travel agent was taking a call, so Rick had to wait a few minutes. It was a pleasant few minutes.

The travel agent welcomed Rick into her office and told him to sit down.

"What can I do for you, Rick?" she inquired in an unusually accommodating and sincere manner.

"Well, as you well know, I'm always lookin' for work. Was just wonderin' if ya had any for me."

Her eyes were fixed on the coat. She didn't even hide her intense interest as she asked him to provide her with some basic info and his number so she could get back to him. He thought he might even have seen some drool in forming at the corners of her mouth.

A few minutes later, as Rick was leaving the office, the clerk called to him.

"Hey Rick, I uh. I like this new French place on Bernard St., you like French cuisine? I love it." She stared at his coat.

"Hey French cuisine's aright I guess, ya know. I ain't too sure about it, ta be honest. And I ain't always too fond of stuff I haven't tried."

His ungainly response did not deter her, and she went on to insist they eat there some time.

"I guess I could try it out then." he ceded. He gave her his number, rather the number of his neighbor (the same number he gave to the travel agent because he did not have a phone of his own) and went on his way. A phone, incidentally, was only one of several amenities his residence lacked. He had no heat, no appliances save the refrigerator, no furnishings in his bedroom aside from an old tan bedroll, etc.

That day Rick walked from business to business with the same staggeringly good luck, stopping only to acquire a sloppy hot dog from a vendor who took one look at the pea coat and announced that this particular slop dog would be 'on the house'. He couldn't give away his info fast enough, it seemed. Everyone was interested!

He returned home late in the evening after a few rounds of beer that he received for no price from a spellbound barkeep. He sat down elated and drunk on the rust colored love seat, and had just began to drift off when someone pounded on his door.

"Rick, you in there??" It was his neighbor, Dave.

"Eh, Dave yeah just a minute, man, hold on."

He got up, took of the coat which was starting to get uncomfortably warm, and set it down.

"Rick, you need to come and retrieve these messages and tell these people to give my phone a rest!"

Rick entered his neighbor's apartment to find the answering machine blinking frantically. He pressed the play button.

"You have 21 messages." said a robotic yet feminine voice, "First message:"

"Hi Rick, this is Dana the travel agent. You know it turns out that we're looking to expand and we'd like to bring you on board. How would you like to have your own office and a great salary? Give me a call in the morning and we'll work something out!"

All of the messages went along these lines. All in all, there were fifteen career offers and three formal requests from ladies to take him on a date. The other three were from Dave's mother.

"I can't believe this, Rick! What the hell happened? 'bought time you get yer own phone I think."

Rick apologized for the volume of calls and assured him with grave accuracy that it wouldn't happen again. He returned to his apartment and laid down on the couch. He pulled out a celebratory cigarette from Ye Olde Smoke Shoppe and lit it as he rested his head on his new coat. He inhaled triumphantly and recalled the day's events. And then, with the red hot cherry still aglow, he drifted off to sleep.