Slim Randles' Home Country

Love counselor needs business advice

[September 25, 2010]  Marvin Pincus sipped his coffee, looked out the window at his sign proclaiming the Pincus house the "Fly Tying Love Center," and sighed.

Business wasn't good.

Before Marvin retired, he would've attacked this problem with what amounted to a public-relations blitz, but time and the tides and the occasional need for linimental help with aching muscles had taken effect. What, he wondered, could he do in a... casual... way to stir up business.

He realized he was a pioneer... perhaps the pioneer... in combining fly tying and romance advice, but that doesn't mean he couldn't quietly hope for his neighbors to have more love problems.

His advice had worked well with Dewey (a lead-wire-wrapped woolly bugger leading to the suggestion he showers before he asks a girl out on a date), and with Randy Jones (a pheasant-tail nymph and a Parmachene Belle sending him on his way to girlfriend happiness with Katie Burchell). But there were others out there. There had to be others.

Other advice counselors, the ones who just sat there taking notes, managed to find any number of unhappy potential love victims, but the Fly Tying Love Center was noticeably short of them at the moment.

Oh, he had taken Marjorie's advice and tied up a mess of streamer flies with the points and barbs taken off and made earrings out of them. He sold a bunch, too. The problem with that was, he'd really enjoyed being asked for advice. Advice, not earrings. And it wasn't happening.

Marjorie walked in and gave him a kiss. "I'm headed out to the beauty parlor, Honey. Wish me luck."

"You don't need any luck," Marvin said. "You were born beautiful and you keep improving every day."

"If you give that kind of love advice with your fishing flies, Hon, I'll spread the word and every woman in town will send her husband over here to fill their tackle boxes."

As the front door closed behind Marjorie, Marvin sipped more coffee and smiled. It just might work. I mean, she could tell some of the women, and the word could spread ...

It could happen.

[Text from file received from Slim Randles]

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