…
Last night I had a late dinner; while the steak was done to rare perfection and the mushroom sauce tasted exquisite, there was something funny with the salad dressing.
Not paying attention to early signs of dyspepsia, I finished my work-day feeling drowsy, more than what a glass of golden dark beer would provide.
Laying on the couch, I skipped through channels on my Roku, when the front door bell rang. Grudgingly, I got up and answered the door, only to face Morgan Linton.
“Lucius! I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by to say hello,” said a very tanned looking Morgan.
His familiar ‘geek’ paleness was gone, and his clothes were covered in soil and grass parts. He wore an old faded pair of jeans and a dirty t-shirt.
“What’s going on, Morgan, how’s the Fashion Metric business going?” I asked, concerned about his appearance, a far cry from the usual stylish outfits.
Morgan looked at me perplexed.
“Fashion Metric? What are you talking about? Dude, I run a plant nursery business, remember? I spent the better part of the day here in Florida scouting for some great palm tree varieties. Had to check the soil’s particulars, you guys have some great humus here!” said Morgan, wiping his hands on his jeans.
I stood still for a few seconds, looking like an idiot, then decided to play along.
“Sure, your plant nursery business… yeah! We’re blessed with nice weather and soil here in Florida. Man, you look tanned and lean, what’s the deal?”
Morgan laughed, then looked all serious at me.
“Lucius, are you freaking kidding me? You know I run marathons, right? Two in June already, getting ready for another one in New York City in July. I’ve been running for years and years, dude!”
I could have sworn that Morgan was trying to play a sick trick on me, when my phone rang. It was Shane Cultra, who called me once in a super moon.
“What’s up Lucius? I heard you’re busy bro, well guess what so am I, need your domain promotion skills for my biz, bro!”
Morgan was already helping himself in my kitchen, making a power vitamin shake and going through my stash of stale granola bars. I excused myself and focused on Shane’s phonecall.
“So, Shane, glad to hear you’re busy, what can I help you with? Morgan’s here, we need to have a get-together. Did you convert the guy or something, he’s running a plant nursery and runs marathons, I mean WTF?!”
Shane laughed out loud, then became serious.
“You’re kidding me, right? How could I do that, I don’t have the time to piss, been running Fashion Metric with my wife and daughter, it’s a huge success but requires all my fashion attention. Marathons? I am asthmatic, can’t walk more than a mile without fainting, remember? Good one, bro!”
At that point, I wasn’t sure if I should tell Shane to STFU with this tom-foolery, or if I needed a reality check. I quickly went to DomainTools.com and WHOIS’ed the domain FashionMetric.com.
Cold sweat ran from my forehead, my palms glistening with perspiration, as the owner’s name came up on the screen as that of Shane’s.
What the hell was going on?
“Shane…I will take a look at your Fashion Metric catalog later today…send me an email. Have to talk to Morgan for a few, later man.”
As I hang up the phone on Shane, perplexed as ever, an email from Rick Schwartz arrived. I decided to read it on the spot, as Morgan seemed to be occupied with military push-ups at the back porch.
“Dear Lucius, I often wonder what goes through your mind during a typical business day in domain investing and joint ventures with domain professionals. I value your modus operandi and successful sales tremendously, but then again who doesn’t! I believe that your thought process about domain investing would be of paramount interest to my readers; after all, they want to hear your story, straight from the mouth of Lucius, the Domain King! Kind regards, Rick Schwartz / Editor / DomainGang.”
My hand was shaking, as I directed the mouse to DomainTools. With fingers that dragged forever onto the keyboard, I typed “DomainGang.com.” After a short delay, the domain info came up as indeed operated by Rick Schwartz, editor in chief, making me the Domain King.
…
I needed to go see a doctor, immediately. I turned my computer off and tried to get off the chair, but it was impossible to move.
My body was paralyzed, stuck in a self-awareness pane from which I could not escape. Then, an evil mirage materialized in front of me; first Morgan, then Shane, now Rick – they all returned in a diabolical frenzy of laughter in front of me, mocking me, scribbling with dirt and blood nasty domain names onto my computer screen. Gathering all of my inner strength, I pulled myself up and ran for the front door.
…
As my body freed itself from this hellish vision, I found myself drooling, face stuck sideways on the couch pillow. My dog was licking my face, and the television played a commercial about vacations in the Cayman islands.
It was a dream after all, I thought to myself, all relieved, a stupid dream caused by some weird indigestion. What a relief to return to reality, to normalcy, after experiencing such a tempest of a dream!
I was getting ready to blog about this silly adventure, when I noticed a business card on my desk: “Morgan Linton, Country Arbors Nursery / Urbana, Illinois.”
