“So, I understand I have some debts with your company,” she begins. She sets her folder across her lap.
“Yes, that’s right,” I say. She isn’t telling me anything I don’t already know.
“Well, I have a plan here for repayment,” she says, opening the folder.
I raise an eyebrow. The bookstore shouldn’t be all that profitable. It has way too many employees and not enough customers.
“You can pay off your debts with my company?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says, nodding. “I just need a little more time…”
I raise a hand, cutting her off. “I’m not interested in hypotheticals, Miss Morgan.”
I’m getting annoyed with this. It’s becoming one of those conversations. I want results. This bookstore isn’t going to get me any results.
“Can you or can you not pay your debts?” I ask.
“Well, I can’t pay them right now,” she says. “But I can pay them back over a period of six months. I have a foolproof plan in place for that!”
“If you had a foolproof plan, then your bookstore would have no debts to begin with,” I explain. “I don’t want your debt repaid in six months. I want it repaid this month. If you can’t do that, then I don’t think your business is very viable.”
She looks like she’s a mixture of flustered and embarrassed. I almost feel bad, but we need to get down to brass tacks here.
I know she thinks I’m being a bitch, but I’m giving her respect. I’m not fooling around with her by entertaining a plan that I don’t want to accept.
She seems to be ignoring my gesture. I can already tell she’s a bleeding heart type. That’s probably why her business isn’t doing well.
“You don’t know anything about my business,” she says.
“And apparently you don’t know anything about mine.”
I see a flash of anger across her face.
“Are we done here?” I ask.
“No! You aren’t listening to me,” she insists. She goes on to say more but I hold my hand up again to stop her.
“I am listening to you, Miss Morgan. I’m just not agreeing with your proposal. I am uninterested in agreeing to a payment plan. I want the debt repaid. If you can’t repay, we will foreclose on your store.”
“But…” She sputters, trying to continue.
“Do you have the funds to pay off your debts by the due date. Yes or no?”
“You’re not—“ I cut her off.
I’m getting tired of playing these games with her. She’s just wasting my time at this point.
I hate it when people waste my time.
“It’s a no. Goodbye, Miss Morgan. You’ll be receiving foreclosure paperwork after the due date passes.”
I turn back to my computer. I want to signal to her that I am in fact done with this conversation. If she starts getting rowdy or refuses to leave, I’ll call security.
But I’ll allow her to leave with grace. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her start to move like she’s going to leave.
Good. Then we won’t have an issue. She can close her business with dignity. If she can get funds in six months, perhaps she can reopen elsewhere.
She puts her papers back in the folder and gets up. She angrily stomps towards the door. Before she leaves, she turns back to me.