Randy Buys His Dream House

Randy Buys His Dream House

The U.P.

Randy Baumgardner liked Michigan's Upper Peninsula. "The World's Greatest Stage Hypnotist" had been coming to the U.P. for almost ten years, ever since he had first visited while playing the U.P. State Fair. Back then, Randy had been employed by Hudson Amusements, the provider of thrill rides and sideshows to the fair and had used his time off to explore the area from Sault Ste Marie to Marquette. Because the fair was an August fair, his exploration happened during peak tourist season.

Since his carnival days, Randy had moved on to a highly successful career playing comedy and supper clubs, touring small to medium sized cities from coast to coast. As his own tour manager, Randy had eventually dialed-in the tour to give him the summer off and lately he had taken his vacations in the U.P., renting various properties on one lake or another across the region.

Randy was a nature lover and a bit of a recluse. He was unmarried. The frenetic nature of his tour schedule, a week in Pittsburgh, three nights in Louisville, a weekend in Nashville and so on for nine or ten months a year had made the establishment of long-term relationships more or less impossible. That was OK with him. He was fully committed to his professional life, which he enjoyed immensely, and which was very lucrative. His living costs were low; he had established close personal friendships with the owners of the clubs he played; and he had access to female company whenever he wanted, which for a guy in his late twenties, was frequently.

Randy was neither a matinee idol nor unattractive. His looks were ordinary. The hypnotist was not quite six feet tall and had a trim, though not particularly muscular body. He'd been told by a number of paramours that he was "kinda cute."

Randy had plenty of time and opportunity to work on his pick-up technique. He enjoyed meeting women and the "mating dance" and he was almost always successful, much more so than men far better looking than him. Randy made his living on stage in front of live audiences doing a comedy hypnotism show and had done so since high school, when he'd first hooked-up with Hudson. His act was funny. He was fast on his feet, exceptionally quick-witted, and completely self-assured. All of these things made him a force to be reckoned with at a bar on a weekend night, or any night, for that matter.

Although bars were Randy's preferred "hunting ground," he was not above meeting women under other circumstances, including at work, but Randy was acutely aware of the dangers involved with seducing women he met on stage and generally avoided such "low hanging fruit."

Had quick wits and a great sense of humor been his only pick-up tools, Randy would have held his own in the dating game, but they weren't. In any encounter with the opposite sex, Randy always held the ace of trumps. He was a hypnotist, the most powerful one in the world. With a single skin-to-skin touch, he could hypnotize any subject, male or female. This ability made his stage performances incredibly entertaining to the audience. Willing "contestants" and skeptics both were completely incapable of resisting his commands. He had access to their innermost thoughts if he chose to look. No one had ever been able to resist his power.

An Unexpected Luncheon Meeting

As he sat having lunch at "The Lakeside," a busy restaurant in Manistique, Randy thumbed through local real-estate guides he had picked up in the restaurant lobby, looking for properties which fit his criteria. Randy wanted a lakeside home, but if he liked a parcel of land, he was not opposed to building on the lot. He knew that his job would restrict his occupancy more or less to the summer and early fall months, peak tourist season. That meant that "summer" homes, which were generally poorly insulated against the cold and designed to be closed-up for the winter months and re-opened in the late spring, were also of interest.

The vacationing hypnotist was enjoying a piece of strawberry pie and a cup of hot coffee when he looked up to see a young attractive woman in a business suit standing over him. "May I help you?" he asked smiling.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your meal, but I couldn't help noticing that you were examining our brochure. Looking to buy property in the area?" Randy stood up. "No, please sit," she said. There's no need to get up."

Smiling, the hypnotist said, "Tell that to my parents. May I offer you a seat and maybe a cup of coffee and a piece of pie? This strawberry pie is exquisite... Miss?"

"Hart, Patty Hart," she said. "The brochure with the red cover is ours, Owens and Hart" Randy immediately moved to pull her chair out from the table and the tall real estate agent sat down as he helped push in her chair.

"I'm Randy, Randy Baumgardner. And yes, I'm looking to buy property in the area, but only the right property." He laughed. "I bet you get that a lot."

Patty smiled. "Yeah, sales of the wrong property are way down this year."

"That was kind of dumb, huh?"

"No, cute, not dumb. Have you been looking long?"

"Not really, but I've been coming to the U.P. for years and have pretty much decided that this is the area."

"Manistique in particular or just the U.P.?"

"I like Manistique, but I'm not married to it. I like being fairly close to Sault Ste Marie. I travel a lot for work and need access to an airport. Can I order you a cup of coffee or a drink? The sun's over the yardarm."

"Coffee's fine. Black if you don't mind." Randy signaled to the waitress and in a minute, Patty had a fresh cup and Randy's cup, also black, was refilled.

The attractive agent continued. "I assume from the 'yardarm' line that you're a boater. Are you?"

"I like other people's boats. I'm pretty much a landlubber."

"I see. Do you mind if I ask you what you do for a living?"

"Not at all. It's only fair seeing as I already know what you do for a living." He smiled. "I'm in show business."

"Really? What do you do, again if you don't mind my asking?"

"I'm a comedian."

"How interesting. Do you do stand-up?"

"Not really. I have a comedy hypnotism act. I work the supper club circuit."

"Fascinating," she said, clearly interested in his story. Patty was an experienced salesperson who knew that ninety percent of sales was learning about the client.

"You actually hypnotize people?"

"When I'm on tour I hypnotize people every night."

"Draining the last sip from her cup, Patty said, "Mr. Baumgardner..."

"Randy, please."

"I have a showing this afternoon, but if it's convenient for you, I would love to have you stop by the office to talk and maybe look at some photographs and maps. If you can give me an idea of the kind of property you're looking for I can gather some notes and maybe we can sit down and talk. I'm confident you'll like something from our listings, but in the chance that you don't I can work with other realtors."

"I'd like that, Patty. First and foremost, I value my privacy highly. I'm looking for lakeside property which is completely isolated from neighboring properties. Any home on the property must be totally out of sight of all abutters year-round. I would like the lake to be substantial, not a pond. If the property is exceptional, I would be willing to build, but I'm also willing to look at summer homes, especially if they would lend themselves to refurbishing."

"Got it."

"Is tomorrow too soon?"

"Not at all. How about tomorrow afternoon? Our agency is right down the street. The address is on the brochure. Is three o'clock OK for you?"

"See you at three, Patty."

Randy rose to help his guest up by gently assisting her to push out from the table. He extended his hand to shake and she took it. Their handshake was hearty, businesslike.

Immediately, her thoughts appeared in the hypnotist's mind. Patty was divorced, thirty-two years old, and clearly interested in adding him to her client list. She'd also sized-up the stage hypnotist as a genuine sales possibility and was already thinking about how she would do research on him to make sure he was legitimate. She'd have her homework done by their next meeting.

His was already done.

At Owens and Hart

The next day Randy arrived at Patty's office fifteen minutes early. The display in the plate glass window featured a number of photographs of lakeview properties with homes ranging from small summer-only cottages to modern mansions. Randy paid close attention to the descriptions of the locations and any maps he could see. He didn't have to worry about price. A simple handshake with the owner and Randy could literally "name his price."

When Randy had first become aware of his mental abilities, his parents had insisted via a few lengthy family discussions, that their son address the moral, legal, and ethical matters associated with his use of his abilities. Since high school he'd spent a great deal of "alone time" tussling with these issues. It was mostly a matter of recognizing temptations to use his gifts when certain situations arose and then taking prudent actions which would harm neither others nor himself.

Randy was no saint. Occasionally, a situation would arise in which the master hypnotist could not resist using hypnosis to "punish" bad or boorish behavior, especially in front of women. He never used it to cheat in business deals. He didn't have to. He could afford to pay market price for whatever he really wanted. Randy had saved the lion's share of his earnings over the past decade and invested wisely. He had no need to steal from anyone.

The issue of what to do about women was another matter altogether. Randy was naturally charming. His manners were impeccable. He was excellent at conversation, both at listening and carrying his fair share of the talking as well. In just a dozen years he'd had a lifetime of experiences. Before he'd taken to the club circuit, he'd already spent two full years working in travelling carnival shows. He had stories to tell, but he also had stories he could never tell, most of which involved beautiful women and kinky sex.

As he stood there window-shopping, the door to the agency opened and Patty waved "Hello." "You're early, Randy. This display is a very small sample of properties we have listed exclusively. Why don't you come inside and let me show you what I've come up with. I think you'll like what I have to show you."

Randy had already decided that he liked what Patty had to show. Patty Hart was an exceedingly attractive professional woman. Her outfit was finely tailored, cut to accentuate her figure. The beautiful realtor had raven black hair which she'd pinned high up on her head. A plunging-necklined red satin blouse clung to her curves. She was "dressed to sell."

Patty Hart had been in her line of work for as long as The Amazing Randy had been in his. Like him, she had shown genuine talent early, accumulating sales, referrals and repeat customers until she was in a position to buy half the business from its founder, whose name was above hers on the door.

Randy stepped into the office and Patty closed the door extending her hand as she led the hypnotist to her desk in one of two glass-lined offices. Laid out on the desk were a dozen manilla folders. The desk itself was large and contained a giant map of the Manistique lakes region under thick glass. The map, which was oriented so that it faced the client, took up the entire desk.

"Please have a seat, Randy. Can I get you something to drink, a Coke maybe or a cup of coffee?"

"No thanks," he said, "maybe later."

"Then let's get to it, shall we? Randy have you ever bought land before?"

"Truthfully, no. This is my first time. Up until now, I haven't really wanted or needed to."

"Well, we're a full-service agency handling everything from the initial listing to working with your lender to closing."

"If I decide to buy, Patty, any and all transactions will be in cash."

"May I ask what price range we're talking about, Randy?"

"I'd rather you just show me the properties. You know what interests me."

"I do and I think that you will find that the properties I have selected for you each meet your fundamental criteria. The first property is located on Manistique Lake." She leaned over the desk to point out the location on the oversized map. "That would be here," she said as she placed her index finger on the desk. "It's ten acres, very isolated in a small out of the way cove..."

One by one Randy and Patty worked their way through the stack of folders until they had whittled it down to three. The clock on Patty's desk showed after five o'clock. "It's late and we've reached a good stopping point." Why don't I get in touch with these folks to arrange a showing? What day is good for you, Randy?

"Patty, I'm on vacation. Every day is a Saturday. I'm free any time. Right now, I'm interested in dinner. Can you suggest somewhere local where I can get a really good ribeye? This land baron stuff has worked up an appetite. If I'm not being too forward, would you like to join me?"

I still have some phone calls to make and I'd have to go home and change... but yes, I'd love to join you for dinner. Let me make it my treat. It's a write-off. How about I meet you at The Corral on Lake Street at say... seven-thirty? Can you hold out that long?"

"Let's negotiate, Patty. How about you make your phone calls and I pick you up here at six. Trust me, you don't need to change for me. Also, I will pay for dinner. If I end up buying, then you can pick up the bill."

"Six-thirty and I meet you there."

"Done," said Randy. "I'll see you at The Corral at six-thirty."

"We'll need a reservation."

"Let me handle that," said Randy as he walked towards the door and let himself out. He chuckled. "I'll be the guy at the bar wearing what I'm wearing now."

"I won't," said Patty, returning the laugh.

Miss Texas

Randy pulled into the parking lot at The Corral a little after six o'clock. The building was larger than he had expected for a restaurant in such a small city, but as he thought about it, he remembered from his carnival days that size was one way a seasonal business could make the books balance. For five months of the year there would be an abundant pool of potential patrons who both wanted and expected to eat out frequently and had relatively few choices unless they wanted to do some serious driving. For the remainder of the year The Corral could not be kept open profitably.

To make it on less than a half-year's worth of dates, The Corral had to serve breakfast, lunch, and dinner seven days a week. It was, by far, the largest seasonal employer in the Manistique area. You'd be hard-pressed to find true "locals" who at one time or another hadn't bused or waited on tables or served as a line cook or dishwasher at The Corral as a summer job.

Once inside, Randy stopped at the reservation desk and, with a gentle command to the teenager in charge, reserved a table for two at seven o'clock. He made his way to the bar and ordered a scotch and soda. There was a large central dance floor which doubled during dinner hours as a salad bar, drinks station and other wait services center. There was a small stage at the far end, complete with amps, microphone stands and a modest drum kit.

Half the house was dressed casually in "tourist clothes", some variation on the shorts, tee-shirts and flip flops motif. The other half were dressed in Western gear, big fluffy dresses or boots and blue jeans. There were lots of cowboy hats.

"Mind if I ride with you for a while, cowboy?" asked a familiar voice from behind. Randy stood up and there she was, his realtor doing a remarkable imitation of Miss Texas. Her long black hair tumbled out of her pink cowboy hat over her shoulders, which were hidden by a bright red satin "cowboy shirt," complete with tiny pearl snaps instead of plain buttons. Her jeans, tight, but not skin-tight, clung to her long legs and accentuated her flat stomach, hidden behind the tailored red satin. She wore red leather cowboy boots. A short length of rope, coiled as an accessory, hung from her belt.

"Boy," said Randy as he smiled and allowed the lovely vision which was Patty Hart to fully register, "did I dress for the wrong occasion."

Patty returned his smile, clearly satisfied that her outfit had delivered the desired effect. "As I recall, you told me that you weren't going to change your dress. Now you miss your boots and string tie?" They both laughed out loud as Randy extended a hand to guide Patty to her seat at the bar.

"Guilty as charged, Maam."

"I'll drop all charges if you'll agree to dance a few times with me. I've taken the liberty to, ah... 'expand' the scope of our dinner. I hope I haven't overstepped. I just thought that we've worked hard enough today. This is my office's busiest time of the year and I could use a night off. I guess I kind of hijacked you. Do you mind?"

Randy was busy probing Patty's thoughts and hesitated before replying. Patty was enjoying herself. Check. She was looking forward to spending an evening with the underdressed comedian/hypnotist. Check. Patty had already begun to envision inviting Randy home for a nightcap. Check and check.

"Mind?" he asked, "Patty, no man alive would mind spending an evening with the loveliest woman west of the Pecos. Certainly not this man."

Patty was right. The ribeye at The Corral was melt-in-your-mouth tender and expertly braised to medium rare. They took their time over dinner getting to know each other and enjoying their meals while Patty revealed that as a teenager and young woman she had waited on tables at The Corral.

Randy held up his end of the conversation with tales of carnival life. Patty was clearly enthralled with exotic stories from a far-away world that she could only imagine.

As the band, The UP-Country Gentlemen, set up, Randy and Patty's table was cleared. As soon as the first note sounded, the floor became filled with cowboys and cowgirls. An unattached cowboy who Patty recognized from previous dance nights came up and asked her to dance. She politely declined, smiling.

"Patty," said Randy, "don't let me stop you."

"Oh, you're not," she said as she looked her "date" in the eye. "We're dancing to the next song, slow or fast, even if I have to rope you into it," she said as she held up her lariat accessory. Folks are used to having new members in the line. If you're shy, we'll stand towards the back, but you're steppin' out, Buckaroo." She smiled a hopeful smile. Then, she looked Randy in the eye and said, "If you really don't want to dance with me, it's OK."

Randy knew she was lying, and said "I would rather break my leg trying than to disappoint you, Patty. I hereby commit to as many dances as you choose. I'm always up for trying something new and if I'm going to learn country line-dancing I can't think of a more beautiful teacher."

The next three songs in a row were up-tempo Texas swing songs and Randy and Patty made their way to the back of the crowd while she showed him some basic moves. By the time the band played Merle Haggard's Tonight the Bottle Let Me Down, they were in a line and dancing... and having fun.

The band took a moment to re-group and Patty and Randy slowly walked back to their table. Before they could actually sit, the band broke into Patsy Cline's classic tearjerker I Fall to Pieces. Patty stopped, looked at the smiling hypnotist and said, "Please Randy, can we do just this one more? It's a slow one."

"Sure, Patty," he said as their eyes met, "I'd like that... a lot."

"Randy and Patty's first slow dance started out the exact same way that slow dances have started since the beginning of music, which is to say "awkwardly." Once they had assumed the position, complete with "enough space between them for the Holy Ghost" and began to sway to the song about lost love, awkwardness turned to unity as Randy pulled the beautiful agent close and she put her arms on his shoulder and her head on his chest.