Heartache

As time passed various people were added to Team Troll.  It started with Logan and Jackson, but as events transpired others were brought into the fold.  Once manager Ross saw me as he was coming in early to help the store. When I was helping Jackson with his broken down truck Ansel and his brother arrived to assist.  One day a guy named Dave noticed my car in a peculiar position that no one else took note of. I offered Rick lunch one day after he helped out the shop with some long nights.  All of these people joined because they would, or did find, the car through intelligence or because of some acts of kindness. Team Troll became desirable; it was a seal of approval with a free lunch.  Instantly someone went from being trolled to being on the other side. I got repeated requests to join, however there was one guy who perpetually refused my offers; the perfect one.

In an age of satire and cynicism I will now genuinely attempt to explain the single best tech in the shop.  Cortez was more knowledgeable than most, faster than anyone, the most helpful in the shop, and excellent with customers.  He would cheerfully out work you with a smile on his face and shower you with compliments. I’m sure you’re looking for his flaws and while he had some they were generally beyond his control.  He was a bit shorter than normal, could not accept compliments, and he had a bit of a Spanish accent because of course he was bilingual. Some might wonder how he achieved this and the answer; he was part time.  Only worked at the shop two days a week. Always came in refreshed, worked paces around everyone else, and then scampered off before the tedium set in; so efficient that he often out performed stragglers working five days during the same week.  This guy was the center of a walking venn diagram for virtues and morals.

Every week I’d offer him a ride to lunch.  Every week he’d politely decline and then take a few guesses at the car which never landed.  Among his plathoria of attributes was his intelligence; he understood the offer on the table and refused to be bought.  This entertained Brad to no end. Everyone else was laughing at the antics or looking for an entrance onto Team Troll, but here was this guy who would not take the offer that anyone else would.  For once Brad had a singular ally-ish in his quest to find the unicorn. So joyous that he proclaimed Cortez would find the car and tell him.

Obvious Cootules question here is how did I crush Brad's dreams?  How did I win Cortez over? What did I do? Nothing. I had no recourse against a guy with such morals; it’s why I wanted him on Team Troll.  Good peoples make the best trolls. So week after week I brought up my open offer and week after week Cortez reaffirmed his position. Until he made his move…

I was sent to lunch some time after noon.  I announced my departure to the shop per usual etiquette and then left.  I eventually left the shop and adjacent store at large, strolled through a portion of employee parking, and then entered the restaurant next door for a togo order.  When I returned to the shop Brad informed me of Cortez's defeat.

It seems moments after I went to lunch Cortez took a break and began his pursuit.  He tracked me through the shop and length of the adjacent store into the parking lot. Silent and stealthy; perfect in his approach.  He saw me waver in the employee parking; I obviously caught glimpse of my tail and shuffled on to the restaurant next door.  By the time Cortez caught our conversation I was ready to confirm all of this. Even though he'd been perfect by all accounts I was a wily Sneakors and would not be duped so easily.

The following day Cortez took me up on the offer more curious than ever.  When approaching he pointed out several other mundane cars before I unlocked the door to mine.  His jaw hit the floor; this entire time he’d been buying into Brad’s V6 Mustang/Camaro/Challenger hype.  Somewhere between the leather seats and surge of power he was won over before we got to lunch. Kept repeating how he never would have guessed and started thinking up plans to get a manual car of his own.

When we returned to the shop Cortez retained every last virtue and moral he’d left with.  Walked straight up to Brad; “I know what the car is and I can’t tell you.” I’ve seen girls dumped on prom night take things better than Brad did.  It was a quiet night with his increasingly wild guesses to distract him.