"Yes. Okay, here goes, get your pencil ready." He smiled and nodded to me. "I'm not sure what the building code specifies, but I want 2x6 sidewalls with a good insulation package; a 5/12 roof with a good insulation package; no attic, it won't be necessary; 40 pound roof load at least; everything on 16s; crawlspace, no basement, so we need to design the mechanicals into the first floor; brick exterior; decent sized overhangs; minimum 30 year shingles; good quality double pane windows, double hung."
Marsbury was jotting notes down feverishly. I waited for him to finish, and he commented, "You know a fair bit about construction. The building code here isn't this stringent."
"Marilyn's family does construction, sort of, up in upstate New York. Way too far for them to build, though. As for the specs, I'd rather be overbuilt."
"Okay, anything specific about the inside?", he asked.
"No carpets. I'm going to want laminate or hardwood flooring throughout. We can always put down throw rugs. Forced hot air heating and central air, of course. A nice kitchen and appliance package. We'll probably want to talk to your kitchen designer on that. We both want something relatively bright and airy. Like I said, I'm more concerned about quality and workmanship and scheduling. I promised my wife I'd build her a nice house, so it needs to be nice."
He smiled at that. "I think we can handle that. It's going to take me a few weeks to get some drawings going on this. I can make a guesstimate now, but without the drawings, it won't be accurate, and I can't do drawings without some form of deposit. Are you prepared to do that now?"
Excellent, go for the money. You're not a pro without the money. "I can write a check. I assume that at some point somebody is going to have to visit the property with me, with us really, to stake out the site."
"We can't stake it out until you have your closing. We can walk the site and examine it first, though, and get an idea."
Yes, let us know the limitations. "Fair enough." I wrote out a check and we did some paperwork and Marsbury was on his way.
"That seemed awfully quick, honey.", remarked Marilyn.
I smiled at her and shook my head. "Here's the alternative. We do this with three more guys. This takes us another two or three weeks. Nobody gives us a price or drawings without money anyway. All we end up doing is wasting the better part of a month. Let's say we save some money but the project takes longer than planned. That means that next year we are still living here, and paying somebody else's mortgage. We don't save a cent!"
"You say so.", she remarked dubiously. I simply chuckled.
In 1982 it was going to take us several weeks to get preliminary drawings back from their architect or engineer. Thirty years later it could be done in an afternoon, by somebody sitting at a computer console, and manipulating digital plans. In the here and now, it meant somebody was going to have to sit down at a drafting table with pencils and T-squares and triangles. Commercially available CAD programs were probably already on the drawing board (so to speak) but wouldn't be viable for a few more years, when computer hardware became more powerful and the first computer literate engineers were trained.
We had Tusker, Tessa, and Bucky over on Sunday for the afternoon and dinner. This was the first chance they had to visit us in our new digs. Bucky found it all quite fascinating and kept climbing up and down the stairs, exploring everything over and over. Our friends had read about us in the newspaper also, and they quizzed us about our vacation. I got us off that topic, only semi-successfully, by asking about their growth and expansion. Tusker told us they had been working on their business plan, but had hit a snag. "We don't know what a new place will cost us, so we can't figure the budget.", he admitted.
"Okay, so call the guy you bought your current place through and ask him.", I replied.
Tessa smiled and nodded. "That's what we did, but we simply found that place by driving around, and the agent who handled it moved to Texas. Neither of us have a name for a new real estate agent."
"Do you think Andrea might know somebody?", Marilyn asked me.
"Maybe. It can't hurt to ask.", I said.
"Who's Andrea?", asked Tessa.
"She's the woman we bought the property through. She's a real estate agent or broker or something. Maybe she knows somebody.", answered my wife.
I nodded approvingly. "That's a good idea. I'll call her tomorrow and ask her. If she doesn't do it, I'll bet she knows somebody."
Tusker looked at Tessa and nodded. "That would be good. We've been working some budget numbers and think we know what we can afford, but aren't really sure."
"Have you talked to your bank yet?", I asked.
That earned a sourpuss face from both of them. "They aren't really interested. They want to see another year or two of business before they do any expansion financing. They even suggested we go elsewhere in the future."
That made me curious. "What, are you late with your payments or something?"
"No!", barked Tusker.
"Settle down, he's just asking!", said Tessa to him. She turned our way and said, "I just don't think they want to do business with a biker, even a successful biker. I don't know if they have a new manager or owner or what, but for the last six months, they've been pretty cold."
I shrugged. "Well, that's why they have other banks. We'll just have to find you a new banker."
"Yeah, sorry, man. It just pisses me off at times. I mean, I make my payments, we've got a growing business, we're profitable, I'm hiring employees - I mean, we are doing everything they say we are supposed to do, right? - and they treat us like something to be scraped off the bottoms of their shoes! Why? Because I have long hair and tattoos and ride a bike? That's just bullshit!"
"Watch your mouth, honey. Bucky can hear you.", said Tessa.
"Charlie, too.", commented Marilyn.
"Sorry.", he said contritely.
I just shook my head. "Wow, long hair and tattoos! Now that I think about it..." Marilyn, Tusker, and Tessa threw napkins at me. I was chased out of the living room and sent to cook dinner.
Chapter 70: Becoming An Entrepreneur
Monday morning I called Andrea Greene at her office and left a message. She returned the call around noon. "Yes, Carl, how can I help you? Is everything still on track with the closing?"
I should have known her first thought was to our current deal. "It should be. I talked to John Steiner last week and he indicated the closing was the end of this week. I'm calling you about something totally different."
"All right, what's on your mind?", she asked.
"Do you get involved with commercial real estate at all, or do you know somebody who does?"
"Yes, I can handle it. I do a little of everything, jack of all trades, master of none, I suppose you can say. What do you have in mind?"
"Well, it's not for me. A close friend of mine has a business, buying and repairing and selling motorcycles, and he's doing very well. Unfortunately, his present location is just too small! He is busting out at the seams and needs to relocate and expand. Can you help him?", I asked.
"Probably, but I think I need to meet him first and see what he needs."