The Middleman | ongoing

29 | butt of all car jokes

29 | butt of all car jokes

Song: Confident by Justin Bieber ft. Chance the Rapper

Depicted Above: Laurence Fisburne as Jamal Walfin

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It was a sight to behold—the so-called Mr. Walfin angrily munching on the boba in his bubble tea. 

It took everything within me as well as Quinn to suppress the laughter aching to tumble out of our mouths.

The juxtaposition was just comedic. Such an angry fuming man inside the happy and light-hearted atmosphere of the Vietnamese cafe.

His body language, however, changed the slightest when he perked up, upon seeing our formal attire clad figures.

Quinn went in for the firm handshake, and I followed as well, greeting him with a pleasant smile that would hopefully be infectious to the grump.

"Mr. Walfin, we're so extremely sorry for arriving late," Quinn diplomatically began. "We were just caught up in so much traffic, and you know what that weekend rush hour can be like."

He glanced at us suspiciously. His eyes, in scrutiny, zeroing on my lips, face, and then my attire, and following the same motion for Quinn. "Hmmph," he grumbled. "Just don't make it a habit."

Did someone take a piss in his Thai milk tea?

No, that couldn't be it, he was going in for another outrageously long sip of his liquid treat. I found myself wondering how I could take him seriously and professionally when he slurped up the drink from his fluorescent highlighter orange boba straw. Nevertheless, I maintained my cordial smile.

A waitress came around to serve Quinn and I but seeing as late as we were, we didn't want to push it and declined to order anything.

Once he finished chewing his boba pearl, Walfin set the tone of the meeting. "So," he clears his throat. "I assume your business partner... Leia, is it?" He glances over me to confirm if he's correct.

"Yes, it's Leia." I smile back.

"I assume you've filled her in on the present situation between Kabuye and Fin Auto?" Walfin directs his attention to Quinn.

"Yes, we've gone over the current situation. I believe we just need to discuss with you the final technicalities. After all, the devil is in the details." Quinn, ever the charmer, serves Walfin a soft half-smile, one that I can't seem to get enough of.

"Of course. Who do you think I am Mr. Carter? Here are some copies of the contracts we'd like for Mr. Pasey to sign."

So Mr. Pasey was the Kabuye official's name. He sounded awfully familiar. Perhaps his name had been somewhere on the news.

Quinn reaches across the knotty wood table. He flips through the pages, looking for the heart of the content. He scans it quickly, and then he hands it to me.

I consume all of the information, page after page after page. My eyes worked efficiently in targeting the relevant material, so I could hone in on the exchange taking place between Quinn and Fin simultaneously. My years of rigorous AP's and my involvement in other demanding classes sharpened me to find the important information and documents and disregard the other extraneous bullshit. By business procedures and standards, there was a ton of BS in the document.