I got a new client today via a referral from the screenprinter down the way.
I got another one from a guy that opened up a mailbox in our shop.
They both called within an hour of one another to set up appointments to come in.
I’m happy-dancing (read: sort of grinding into the air like a slut) in the empty-shop, celebrating my pending-spoils with Brass Monkey on the radio.
Dad is on the phone in the back of the shop. He looks up at me and laughs and then holds one hand up and rubs his thumb against his index and middle fingers and said, “Show me the money!” under his breath.
There’s nothing weird about that, right? My family is so bizarre sometimes. Ha!